


From the Ruins

by TedizStalker



Category: Bx: Execute (OFF Fangame), UNLOAD (OFF Fangame)
Genre: Amber Ordeal makes a cameo, Five Stages of Grief, M/M, Mentions of Cecilma, More tags will be added along with the chapters, Other, Perkin's tent theory, Sleeping Under The Stars, UNLOAD is still unfinished, but with pocket dimension usage, non-canon/canon divergence, tw; lots of angst, tw; mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26537317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TedizStalker/pseuds/TedizStalker
Summary: Searching for a loved one who mysteriously disappeared leads Huaso to find what remains of him.While there's a lot that has been gained, a lot more that has been lost than what first impressions imply.How will the undead engineer cope with his significant other being turned into a weapon, devoid of thought, feelings, and memories?
Relationships: Huaso/Pure Knight, Past Ghost/Huaso
Kudos: 19





	1. Devoid of Anamnesis

**Author's Note:**

> Unload is still an unfinished Demo. So I decided to write something starting after 81 and the party are put down.
> 
> Non-canon, so read it with a grain of salt. Or not. There will be lots of angst and fluff.
> 
> Thanks to M telling me what Pure Knight's behavior is like when he's not under direct control of Lenny, which helps shape the first few chapters.

Finding the rocket was the easy part. Fixing and rebuilding parts was the hard hurdle.

But somewhere along the way, Huaso caught word, somehow, that he could not afford to ignore the God Destroyer. If left unchecked, _everything_ in existence will be wiped.

Sure, fine, whatever. See if he cares.

Right?

**_Wrong._ **

As soon as it was put into his head, his virus’ hardwired desire for survival forces him to put the rocket repairs on hold and start training for a possible showdown with a new friend he made. A friend he, no doubt, knew nothing about the life he led prior to becoming a knight.

After stopping by Flo’s office to perfect the hydro-rombed potassium, recycled plastic to use only as fuel, and for some therapy, Huaso steels himself up for a fight he might possibly lose.

He didn’t want to do this.

But if his existence, and the existence of all else was at risk…

Then he had no choice but to stare him down.

The Coward’s Option will not be available to him.

~~

Huaso demanded that if Pure does not stand down from his mission, then he would defend the Eldritch Abomination down to his dying breath.

He did not want Purification, for it will not work against a harbringer.

He did not want Suppression, for cytopathy will make him stand once more.

He wanted _Termination._ He wanted Pure to burn him to ashes, and cast him away into a place where nobody will eat the remains. He wanted his essence to be liberated.

He did not count on the fact that Pure will drop his bat.

Pick up the harbringer.

Put him on his shoulder.

And then proceed to deliver three devastating punches to U-Gore.

It wasn’t enough to kill him. But it was enough to knock him out.

Akin to giving an unruly teen a spanking.

Pure did his mission, albeit half-assed, but he did it.

As the two walked away, Huaso noticed the halos, while pastel orange and pink, began to fade away.

~~

It’s likely that the abomination will not allow them to leave now.

Huaso and his new friend were forever trapped in the Unload file. While the harbringer can still open pockets and traverse through them, the other end will always open at a place elsewhere in the Unload, but never beyond it.

That’s fine. He hasn’t been to his home file for some time now. He also asked the new merchant, if he hasn’t returned in a certain amount of time, to go ahead and pull the switch. His home file’s Hugo likely would have perished on his own.  
That, or Coach, despite being Valérie instead of Pablo, found the backbone to put the creator out of his misery.

~~

“Say, ya think we’re due for another vacation?”

Huaso asks out loud, mostly to himself. It would be pretty funny if the knight answered him.

“What’s a vacation?”

Huh… So he is curious?

“It’s a term used t’ git away from work, for a small period. Like, a couple a days to a week or two.”

The knight squints, looking at the starry sky above them as the few cogs in his head turn. “Vaaaa-cay-tion…”

“Yeah, like that. Kinda.”

Pure Knight was purely, in all sense, a clean slate. A perfect, powerful vessel devoid of independent thought, up until he slugged U-Gore anyway. But he was also a quick learner.

“Hey, I fixed the rocket ship. Ya think we can finally go to the moon?”

“Rocket ship… rocket…”

Sadly, he really is dense. Dumb. Thick. But Huaso doesn’t fault him.

A pity too.

At least Eddie had personality-

“What’s a rocket ship? Shiiiip…”

“It’s a transport t’ fly into space. Even if ya have wings, we wouldn’ survive without oxygen.”

“Transport… tr-aaans-port.”

“Any object used ta git from one place t’ another. Like a car.”

One would think that Huaso will get a headache in record timing for his one neuron working into overdrive, just thinking for the both of them? Especially now that the knight is prone to asking questions, or even responds half the time, and knows what it means? Maybe.

“I can fly to the moon and back.”

“Well, we can’t leave without supplies. We’ll die out there without oxygen.”

Pure looks at his small friend perched on his shoulder. “No. It is a bad idea. I can only fly alone.”

“I’m glad yer a little considerate.”

Huaso pets his hand on the shoulder some, smiling. “Why don’ we take the rocket. It’ll take longer, sure, but at least we’ll git a scenic route. And nobody will suffocate.”

The knight looks pensive again, squinting as he thinks about it, before giving a nod.

“Okay.”

~~

The original reason why Huaso took the risk and returned to the Unloaded File was to look for Eddie as soon as someone told the harbringer that he went missing. But if what the egg man said about Pure Knight is true… Then he had to be sure.

“Hey friend? What do ya remember so far?”

“Nothing.”

That’s fair. Maybe. Another lump of coal to fuel the furnace of hatred he harbors towards Lenny. If he sees that fucking buckethead…  
No, not the time to lose his temper. “Define… nothing.”

“I don’t remember anything.”

“Not even me?”

A few seconds of silence pass.

“I learn and remember learned things. You are Huaso. Hooo-a-sou.”

“So, ya know my name. What should I call ya then?”

“Pure. Just Pure will do.”

“Alrighty then, Pure.” Huaso smiles. But neither could tell that it was a bitter smile.

So… Eddie really is gone?

It will take some time to nurse the grieving, but when it finally passes, Huaso will move on. And his heart will finally be free. Free to find his liberation, his remedy.

Ah… but he can’t really leave Pure alone, can he?

~~

Accepting the fact that Eddie is gone was the hurdle over the first step of grievance; denial.

The next step was anger.

When the two finally found the rocket ship again, they were instantly met with two problems.

Someone had already used it.

And Pure was far too big to squeeze inside.

Those two factors were the incentive for Huaso to lose his temper and start ripping wires out. He did not have the patience to mix up more hydro-rombed potassium.

Pure stood back and watched, albeit a little scared, as his companion went to town with his claws, his pickaxe, his shovel, ripping the rocket ship apart to smithereens. It wasn’t like the owner who arrived in the rocket was here to claim it anymore.

Huaso looks at the remains, panting hard. Quite a workout, but it wasn’t cathartic.

When a December makes its presence known, he quickly redirects his fury at the ghoul and chases after it.

Attacking ghouls and spectres? That is something Pure is familiar with. It’s what he’s built for.

He just has to remember to _hold back_.

~~

Pure didn’t know what he did wrong.

He sits outside one of the two tents, the other occupied by his friend. Try as he might, he couldn’t fit inside his own that Huaso offered to share.

The little sick mole was angry all day today, and he couldn’t help but feel it was his fault. He did not have the patience to deal with curious thoughts, head empty.

Although Huaso assures him that he isn’t in the wrong, it’s just something he’s trying to cope with.

~~

The harbringer lies on his side, hearing the start of rain to fall. He felt deflated after today. He’s just thankful his rationality had some form of control, telling him not to attack the knight who probably didn’t understand what he was going through.

How could he? He’s a clean slate.  
He’s not Eddie.

If only he broke away from the monotony of his work sooner.

If only he saw the warning signs before one year after Boxedman’s death.

If only he moved in sooner.

But his fear of spreading the disease to Theodore and Fred kept him at bay.

…It’s too late to bargain. Huaso knows this. He knows this.

Pure doesn’t know better. And it’s not his fault. It’s Huaso’s fault for not acting. It’s Eddie’s fault for leaving. It’s Lenny’s fault for laying claim to his perfect vessel.

But not Pure. He’s a neutral party, born unto this madness, expected to bring about the end of _everything_. And he avoided doing even just that.

~~

“Huaso?”

Pure was shivering. His wings soaked, his body trembling from soaked garments. “Huaso, please. It feels cold outside.”

The zipper opens, and bleary eyes hidden by the goggles look out at the knight.

“What is it? It’s raining.”

“I’m cold.”

“Why didn’ ya sleep in yer tent?”

“I don’t fit. I could break it if I try.”

Of course. Pure is too large for a lot of things. He thinks with a frown.

“This might sound like an outrageous idea, but take yer armor off, an’ come git inside.”

Pure hesitates, but nods. Starting with the helmet, he works his way in removing the armor pieces. He got one layer of his wet clothes off before Huaso raised a hand.

“Leave yer undergarments on. I know ya’ll wind up draggin’ some water inside, but it won’ be enough ta make us both regret it.”

As Pure attempts to crawl in, Huaso grabs the bed roll, and his lamp and squeezes them and himself into a corner. He opens up a pocket, pulling out towels and a self sufficient heater. One thing Pure is that Eddie is not; he’s alive, with a pulse, and a shivering frame. And he feels very cold. Though it’s unlikely that he’ll suffer from hypothermia due to a powerful aura, he’ll be miserable if he doesn’t warm up.

The harbringer got to work drying the knight off after closing the zip to the tent, and especially after Pure curled up as tight as he could on the tent floor. It feels awkward for Huaso to be sharing again. He wipes off the excess water, did his best to get started drying the feathers in the wings, and told the tall friend to keep towels where his clothes had soaked through.

With the heater running, things will dry off a lot sooner. Pure continues to shiver, grateful for the abundance of towels and for the tent to warm up. He even allows a smile to show when Huaso stuffs a towel covered pillow under his head, more so when the harbringer curls up in his arms. With this confined living arrangement, this is the best they can manage for a decent night’s sleep as the rain continues to fall outside.

~~

It was as though the Unload file was mourning with him.

Huaso couldn’t go out in the rain and risk triggering the transformation.

And it didn’t look like Pure was looking well enough to get up today either, even if he feels stiff for curling up in a fetal position all night on the tent floor. Still, he had to move, to lay on his other side, and get started drying his still damp side, as well as many other things. Ironically enough, his wings were already dry.

Huaso didn’t have the desire to eat anything, but forced himself to regardless. Last thing he wanted was to hit empty mode and attack Pure in his mindless state.

Eddie knew what to do; Pure does not.  
And there it is again. Eddie.

It seems, no matter how much he tries, he couldn’t put his thoughts of Eddie out of his head.

“Is there something on your mind? You look… lost.”

Pure spoke up. His pale eyes wide with curiosity. Think that was the word his friend used once.

“There is. Sorry if ya had t’ put up with my moody antics, Pure.”

“…Do you want to talk about it?”

“I dunno.” Huaso sighs, leaning his back against the tent wall some, “Would ya be able t’ understand half of what I’m sayin’?”

“I don’t know. But I can try. To lend an ear. As you told me once before.”

“Alright.”

Huaso closed his eyes. His goggles need cleaning, they have an abundance of saline triggered clots in them.

“There’s a reason why I returned to the Unloaded File. I came looking for a friend. Or, a boyfriend, rather.”

“What’s a boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend is a male friend whom one can show more than jus’ platonic interest in, I guess. Ya could be a girl, or a boy, an’ have a boyfriend. But the latter is often looked down upon.”

“What’s a latter?”

“Opposite of former. May I continue?”

“Yes. Sorry…”

“My boyfriend was a purifier. A dead one, a ghost, not ta be confused fer a spectre, but he did his best. A walkin’ disaster with a gigantic heart.” Huaso says, eyes half lidded as a smile graced his face for the first time in ages, or so Pure recalls.  
“It’s funny, too. Many a purifier died at my claws f’ followin’ the pull of corruption each harbringer has, but he was completely numb to it. It was just a happenstance that we crossed paths. He was dealin’ with a group of common spectres when he crashed into my workplace. If I hadn’ known any better, he fell fer me pretty quickly at that. He’s pretty cute, in his own cool way.”

“How does that work?”

“Ya know, he asked the same question. His body’s kinda like a worm. His tail was fun ta play with, an’ he did let me play with it. He had a big mouth that screamed obscenities whenever somethin’ got on his bad side. In spite of that, I found that t’ be charmin’, too. He was strong, with muscles, and arms that could make a ghoul explode in one hit, but he was incredibly soft. I could cuddle ‘em and fall asleep in minutes. He had black hair, which was fun t’ comb my fingers through.  
“I’ll admit, he was a hot mess. But so was I. Anytime a flaw reared its ugly head an’ he got down and mopey about it, I would be right there ta knock it back to th’ curb. We’d be there t’ look out for each other. Life sucks, but as long as someone had a good head on their shoulders, we’d always find a way t’ crawl back up on the beat’n track.  
“He…” Huaso trails off, and for a moment Pure frowned in worry, but remains quiet, “He was asked ta doin’ somethin’ a year or so back. It was on a date that held a lot a meanin’ to him. See, it wasn’ just me that he met of the harbringers. But he met Flo, Reinzi, Par, Carbine, Mida, an’ Lepi, all of which were also found on the Unload File. Of the lot, an’ with the exception of Lepi, the Positives were forced into Full Mode, an’ let loose t’ rampage in a file dangerously close to the Boxed Kingdom. The culprit; his old man. Boxedman.”

“That’s…”

Pure frowns. It doesn’t ring any bells, but a nagging feeling in his heart told him that it _should._ “I have no words for that. Why did this Boxedman do it?”

“He was forced to. He had t’ keep his end of the bargain for the ex-harbringer of Death. For Death, at the time, gave him his second wind ta raise Eddie an’ his little brother Fred. In exchange, one a them had ta become a dead purifier.”

This was turning into a sad story. Pure ponders quietly for a bit, ignoring a twinge in his wings. “Well… what does this have to do with why you’re looking for your boyfriend?”

“Eddie was irreversibly depressed afterwards. I gave up my job in my home file an’ moved into the neighborhood of Moonflower City, but not under the same roof as his. Didn’ wanna git his brothers sick. But alas, I’m an ‘Elsen’, an inhabitant. And the Elsen are naturally built t’ work almost all th’ time. I couldn’ sit around an’ twiddle my thumbs, no less standby at home an’ wait for a call ta come over an’ see if Eddie was doin’ alright; I had ta git into a routine. So I found a nearby job doin’ construction an’ commission work while Eddie volunteered at th’ local library.  
“I believe I fucked up somewhere, Pure. I didn’ catch the warnin’ signs. I did all I can ta help keep his chin up, but… well… it’s why I’m here now. One year after the execution of Boxedman, Eddie just… disappeared.”

Huaso gives a sniff, a calcified hand rubbing his nose.

“…Like you said… You did all you could.” Pure starts, reaching up and brushing his eye as he feels tears well up himself. Why is it?  
“He would not want you to blame yourself for something you didn’t do. But he knows you did your best. He probably wants you to keep on keeping on. I… know I would, if I was in his place.”

 _‘That’s just the thing, Pure…’_ Huaso thinks, rubbing his goggles in vain, _‘You are him, but at the same time, you’re completely someone different. And I ain’t sure if I should tell ya…’_

“Please… don’t cry.”

Pure fixes his hug and cuddles the small inhabitant closer, wings giving a shudder. It’s likely that he didn’t understand every word, but he understood the general consensus of Huaso’s somber tone. The same tone he heard when he first found his friend. “The rain will clear up soon, I just know it.”

“T-Thanks,” Huaso says, nearly choking on a sob, “f-for bein’ a friend…”

~~

Pure didn’t know when he dozed off.

His eyes blink open, only to find that the tent is empty, the zipper left open wide, and a gentle breeze drifting in. It is sunny, which means the rain has finally moved on. Or it changed overnight again.

Feeling rigid for staying in a fetal position for too long, and especially for someone his size, Pure crawls out of the tent with some difficulty. He finds that the armor pieces that he had shed off prior to entering were moved, propped up to dry off thoroughly.

So where is his little sick friend?

Right… Huaso said that harbringers are thoroughly corrupt individuals, and that purifiers are often drawn to them, subconsciously or otherwise. So he starts to search for any surge of corruption. It’s a little more of a volatile feeling than picking up on the sensation of impurity.

Once he feels the magnetic pull of corruption, Pure starts to follow it on bare foot, wings spread wide to finish off drying and properly fan out in the midday sun.

~~

The Harbringer of Pestilence sat squat and hunched over the sandy bank of the river, rinsing the goggles out. He just had a dip earlier. The warm sun made it so he could throw his Elsen shirt and tie, and underwear back on. He can feel the sand between his calcified toes, so he can’t help but wiggle them.

It’s nice to see the world in color now and then. He sighs through his nose, allowing himself to savor this moment before the nagging headache beckons him to put the goggles back on.

But it couldn’t have nagged him too little too late. The echoes coming from behind him made it so he paid attention to the sound of undergrowth being disturbed; twigs snapping, leaves crunching, someone approaching bare footed and not really making any effort to hide themselves.

In the water’s reflection, Huaso catches sight of Pure. And he quickly closes his eyes before either make contact, even on the surface.

“Good mornin’.” he greets, shaking the water out of his goggles.

“Morning.” Pure rolls his shoulders, watching his friend for a while. The pungent smell of rancid blood didn’t escape him. Last time he smelled something like that, it was because a scrap piece of metal from the rocket dug into the harbringer’s upper arm where the sugar didn’t encase. “Are you okay? I can smell blood.”

“I’m fine. Thank ya for yer concern.”

“Your goggles are off.”

Pure notes. Wait, why did the other keep his goggles on if he can’t see? On more than one occasion, Huaso told him that he can’t see anything with them on, but the alternative is chaos. His words, not Pure’s.

“I had t’ clean ‘em, friend.” Huaso sighs. He flinches when he feels one of the large hands rest on his shoulder.

“You said you can’t see anything with your goggles on. At least in dark places. And I can smell blood. Why do your eyes bleed?”

Guess there’s no harm explaining it all over again, right? The sooner Pure knows, the less likely he’ll hurt himself against the harbringer in the future.

“Special glands in the eye sockets were damaged beyond recovery. As a result, blood passin’ through aren’t able t’ clot over an’ seal it off. So I kinda bleed from the eyes endlessly.” Huaso says, making sure each word made sense, “That said, I can lose blood. If I lose enough blood cells, I can also lose my mind. An’ trust me friend; ya don’ wanna be around when I enter that empty state.”

“I see…” Pure frowns, folding his wings as he glances away. “So, do you have your eyes closed because you’re reducing the amount of blood you lose?”

“Doesn’ make much of a difference. There is more though; I have a Competence, but folks here like ya call it Savvy. It’s an uncontrolled Savvy; Cardiac Arrest. Direct eye contact inflicts palsy. And seein’ as ya’ve known me for even a short amount a time, ya know I don’ like hurtin’ others. Even if my mannerisms come off as hostile.”

“May I see your eyes?”

It’s a dumb question, from a dumb weapon of destruction, only tame now because of the crowd he’s hanging out with. Except it’s not yet a crowd, since it’s just the two of them.

“Pure, I dunno if I wanna do that to ya.”

“I’m resilient to a lot of things.”

 _‘But y’ain’t dead._ _’_ Huaso’s mourning thoughts chimed in, _‘_ _And ya got yer eyes back, too. I’ll never forgive myself if yer on the ground twitchin’.’_

“I’ll forgive you if anything happens.” Pure spoke up, not sure where that came from.

“Alrighty then.” he resigns, standing up and turning to face the knight, “Take a knee, jus’ in case. An’ please don’ git mad at me if yer struck down with palsy.”

A sense of déjà vu washes over them. Hesitantly, Huaso opens his eyes.

In a pulse, Pure feels his spine freeze over, his arms and legs tremble some, and he lets out a shaky breath as his eyes widen. But just as quickly as it came on, the sensation left him. With the initial shock over and done with, he studies the other.  
Huaso’s irises have glazed over to be milky white, stained in a scarlet wash due to just how he keeps the blood contained, which continues to weep from the corner of his eyes as well as pool and flow from the bottom eyelids.

“They’re… pretty.”

“Ya really think so?”

Huaso had to find his lungs in order to breathe again. Yes, Pure was hit with palsy just now, but he very quickly shook it off. The effects might have taken a greater hold if the engineer felt he was under threat. As opposite men fighting on opposite sides would.

“I think so. I wish it was possible for you to stop crying, though.”

He reaches up, wanting to brush a blood streak away, but a clawed hand stops him, with a gentle push.

“Don’ touch that. Th’ blood’s just as poisonous as the claws that contain th’ power of corruption itself.”

“…Okay.” Pure will take his caution for it. He blinks, able to feel his body relax instantaneously at that.

Huaso takes this chance to turn away, wash his face off, and put the now clean goggles back on. “If ya like my eyes that much, I hope it’s burned into yer memory; I ain’t doing that again.”

The knight only closes his eyes, thinking about that moment. The freezing sensation, the warmth that followed, those eyes. Those pretty eyes.  
Though his friend has a point. It’s not worth the risk getting hit by palsy, but it didn’t stop him from feeling wistful about seeing those eyes again.

~~

Huaso remembers this place.

The field of flowers and rolling green hills.

Earlier he decided to say ‘fuck it’ and rip open a pocket tunnel, see where within the Unload File it will take them. And the other side has opened up on the stone monument.

Pure looks around once he steps out, smiling. If Huaso hadn’t known better, there was a glint in those pale eyes.

“This is amazing!”

“I thought ya’d like it.” he chuckles, giving a sigh with a smile of his own.

He fondly remembers coming here with Eddie for the first time.

“What does this say?”

The knight had knelt down, looking at the engravings on the stone once the cracks closed.

Ah yes, he remembers this too.

“ _‘Here lies Abundance the 3rd. Even in death, the flowers will still grow.’_ ”

“Flowers? I’ve never seen them before.”

Pure turns around, sitting down with his back against the monument. There’s a whimsical tone in Huaso’s voice. Did this place bring great joy to the harbringer once?

“Can you tell me more about this place? You sound happy.”

“I guess I can.” Huaso chuckles, seeing Pure open an arm, as though inviting him for cuddles. He quickly settles down, purring as the arms wrap around him.  
“This is where Eddie ‘n I first entered the Unload File. We called it a graveyard at first because it mostly was what it was to us. An oddity, a landscape on the constant change. Some might say it’s a dumpster, but many diamonds could be found in the rough.”

“What’s special about this place, besides the fact you and Eddie have arrived?”

“Well… it’s a little personal, Pure.” the sick inhabitant blushes, “But it’s also where I gave up my first time.”

“First time? For what?”

This newfound curiosity in Pure made Huaso shift a bit in the hug.

“I ain’t all that comfortable explainin’ it to ya right now. I dunno…” he sighs, glancing at the other’s face, “Maybe some other time. When more time has passed.”

The other is blushing! Maybe it’s an embarrassing secret. Pure was itching to know more about his friend and the boyfriend than went missing on him, but if Huaso isn’t willing to relent on that information, he can wait.  
He’s happy to wait for his little friend who hasn’t abandoned him yet.

~~

_‘When the sun sets, will I see your face again?’_

Huaso hums as his thoughts made up the lyrics in his head, coming along smoothly while gently strumming the acoustic guitar that he made for himself.

It is a beautiful clear night, the stars could be seen twinkling in the dark canvas. Without any rain to worry about, tents need not to be erected. A good of a time as any for Pure to stretch out and lay flat on his back on the flowers. He was already sound asleep.

_‘When a star dies, eons without a life?’_

He didn’t need to sing out his somber tune. Pure doesn’t need to hear that, or be roused to it. For all the knight knows, he’s hearing a gentle melody coming from the guitar.

_‘When I’ve given up hope, knowing that you’re beyond broke.’_

Ah shit, he better stop playing soon. He doesn’t want to deal with blood clots for days in his goggles.

_‘I’ll do anything, just to see you smile again. Even at a price.’_

He let the final note strum out to end the melody before placing his hand on the strings. He bows his head. He has to let go.

But Goodness to Epsilon, why is it so fucking hard?

The smell of something burning catches his attention.

It smells like a campfire. But why here, in Abundance the 3rd’s garden? Huaso shifts his legs, getting ready to stand, putting his guitar away. As soon as he moves, Pure opens his eyes with a yawn and sits up as well.

“Huaso?”

“Shh… I think someone’s campin’ nearby.”

Both stand up. They share a glance before the smaller talks.

“I know it ain’t safe for ya t’ fly while carryin’ me, but what about glidin’ from hill ta hill?”

“I… think I can do that.” the knight nods, picking up the harbringer and carrying him in one arm as he spreads his wings. But rather than take off, he jumps, spreads the wings further at the peak of the jump, and enters a float fall to the next hill. He kept his eyes trained on the small spot of light in the distance. Once the light is the next hill over, he folds his wings shortly after landing.

“Can you get an ‘echo’ on them?”

“Let me see…”

Huaso clicks his tongue. The feedback was faint, but he could recognize a girl, a cat, and a bag full of heck knows what sitting by the fire. “I might know these guys.”

“Can we go see them?”

“Of course, Pure.” Huaso whispers back with a nod, “Just try an’ behave for me, alright?”

Pure nods, following his friend. As they get closer to the fire, he can see that it is two individuals that he’s not familiar with. But he does know a cat when he sees one… Lenny ordered him to kill one that wore a big grin once before, but it had yellow eyes. This one had blue eyes, and a simple grit. He also looks timid.

“Coach? Sucré?”

The cat perks up from his nap, hackles raised before relaxing.

Sucré on the other hand was on her feet in a second. “Mushroom cowboy?”

“Eyup, that’s me.”

“Mushroom~! :,-D”

The once crazy pothead soon hugs the harbinger tightly, “It’s good to see you again! :,-)”

“Good to see ya too, Sucré. Still takin’ brave steps into th’ world?”

“Still am. It wasn’t easy to pull the switch. :,-)”

Pure watches this reunion quietly. Are they friends of Huaso? They look and sound like it. He vaguely recalls fighting a smiling cat with yellow eyes and formidable Savvy.

“And who’s this? Is that ghosty sock? He looks scarier than the last time I saw him. :-0”

“It is, but at the same time, it isn’t…” Huaso grumbles, taking a step back from the hug. “He’s a new friend, an’ I’ll leave it at that.”

“Like, a knight in pallor armor?”

“What’s pallor?” Pure speaks up, “Sounds like pale…”

“It’s another term for that. Mostly to describe an unhealthy look. Like mah skin fer example, see?”

“Pallor… pallor…” Pure closes his eyes, letting the word run on his tongue. “Paaar-lah…”

“Aw, I don’t think your skin is pallor, friend~! :-)”

Coach had been watching the knight for a while, before he finally decided to join in the conversation. “Dear engineer, it’s been a while.”

“It has, Coach. How are ya?”

Huaso asks, approaching the white cat before kneeling.

“Still nursing a loss. You were right with that estimation; my dear older brother was eventually taken hostage by the firebird. But I believe he was already braindead in his own way. He and Zacharie were close companions, after all.”

“I’m sorry ta hear that.”

Huaso reaches out with a hand, letting it hover before Coach. The feline responds with a gentle headbutt, taking the pets with a quiet purr.

“So, where are we?” Coach asks, trying to keep a smile of his own. He would do anything to be back in the library, reading books.

“We’re in the Unload File. It’s the file that sits at the bottom, collectin’ data from files whose switches have been turned off. Essentially, a glorified dumpster. My new friend an’ I are trapped here, which is what happens when the Eldritch God finds ya an’ takes ya fancy.”

“I see. Is there anyone else we should look out for? :-/” Sucré spoke up, still checking the vacant minded knight out.

“Just a handful. Zinzo, though I doubt ‘e’s been Joker’d yet. He’s a cannibal towards other Elsen. There’s the four knights; Smoke, Plastic, Metal, an’ Meat. An’ finally, Lepi. If he finds ya, he might turn one or both of ya into some kinda crazy abomination.”  
Huaso gave a sigh once Coach was done taking pets. He gets up from his kneeling position and walks back over to Pure. “Then there’s this guy. He’s content for now, I guess… he’s my friend, but he’s still deadly in ‘is own right.”

“If you’re not ghosty sock, what’s your name? :-0”

The knight blinks. Oh, the merchant is talking to him?

“Pure.”

“Pure? I like it. Short. Simple. No additional dialogue. :-)”

“You like my name?” Pure seems genuinely miffed.

“Of course I do. You’re scary, but being a bit cute more than makes up for it. :-)”

“…Cute? What’s that?”

Huaso was about to answer that, but the jubilant merchant was quick to talk instead.

“It’s an attraction in a pretty or endearing way. Like… kittens, for example! Or cats. :-D Valérie is cute!”  
Sucré looks around, her eyes soon landing on Huaso. “Hey, he’s pretty cute, too, you know. ;-D”

“Cute…”  
Pure stares at Huaso for a while, letting the word play on his tongue for a bit before giving a nod. “I’ll have to agree with you. Huaso is pretty cute.”

“Ah shucks.”

The harbringer waves it off. Although a small part of him has to admit; if Pure started calling him that earlier in their little friendship, he wouldn’t take kindly to it.

“I hate to jump on the chance, mushroom cowboy. It’s a force of habit I got into, which kicks my namesake to the curb. Can I interest you in anything? :-)”

~~

In all honesty, if Pure wasn’t walking with him, Huaso would have started to suffocate from loneliness by now.

The two stock up, bid the brave merchant and the cat farewell, as well as warn them again about the Harbringer of Life before going about on their way.

They passed through the blood oak orchid, picking up additional cuts of meat. This place was nowhere near Estate Kvar, but if Meat Knight knew of the blood oak’s existence, they would be growing their own back home.

The landscape where the Fire Antsens lived had long since vanished, replaced by a mansion full of spectres. It took all of Huaso’s persuasion to convince Pure not to go in there and go ham on the ectoplasms.

A bit more travelling finds the two before an abandoned home in the middle of nowhere. Huaso recalls that it was once surrounded by bleached buildings, all lacking doors, when he first arrived with Eddie, and they took shelter in it after being spat on by a ‘flower.’

“Pure, I believe another friend of mine is here.”

The knight nods, half zoned out. There is nothing to focus on except for the miner, and the house without a way inside. But even if they found a door, it would be too small for him to go through.

At that thought, outlines appear on a wall just as Huaso grasps the door knob. He twists it, and opens it up halfway before a glove comes flying out.

“Oh, Richard, ya still here?”

“Oh my, pardon me!” The glove talks, but it sounds like the voice is manifesting itself between their ears, “It has been a while, hasn’t it my sick fellow?”

“It has. Say, what are ya doing?”

“Packing up, and moving out. Nobody passes through here anymore.” the glove closes its fingers, wagging its index.

From what Pure can observe, the middle finger of the glove looks a little beefier than the rest of its appendages. He wonders if an invisible being is controlling it.

“Say… your friend holds the same, if similar essence. But he’s a different shape with different memories. Is he alright?”

“How can ya tell?” Huaso asks.

“My friend, I might not have eyes, but I have a brain squished to the size of a walnut. Which explains why I can use telepathy, telekinesis, and even sense things around me to begin with.” Richard replies, darting in to grasp and pull out a bag from the house. “First time you were here, you were in love.”

“Love?” Pure perks up, looking at the seemingly sentient glove with a squint, “What is love?”

“You don’t know?”

Huaso shook his head. “He doesn’ remember.”

“I don’t really know what love is…”

The glove seeming to ‘stare’ at the harbringer speaks up, but excluding Pure from the conversation. “May I explain it to him? You look uncomfortable. Almost like you’re deeply hurting from a loss.”

“I am.” he nods, keeping his voice down. “Ya may explain it to him, because I dunno how to without fuckin’ it up an’ making himself second guess what ‘e’s doin’ with me.”

“Ah, I see. Fair.” With three fingers and the thumb slack, the middle finger of the glove nods before directing its attention to the knight.  
“Love is a fickle thing to explain, but it’s a form of deep affection. It can make you do stupid things, like, hmm… like protecting someone, even if they need protection or not.”

“Affection…” Pure mused, frowning, before a look of epiphany crosses his face, “It almost sounds like attraction. Can you love something one would consider cute?”

“I guess you could.” Richard nods the middle finger again, “Why, do you have someone in mind?”

Huaso had tuned out the conversation, trying to guess which way they should head next, and hopefully not into another blistering desert. He did not see the knight give a slight nod in his direction, as a means to answer the invisible psychic’s question.

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know. Now that I think about it… it’s too strong of a word, so I can’t say.”

“Do you like him?”

Richard asks, providing a word with a similar definition, but on a lesser scale.

“I do.”

Pure closes his eyes, thinking back to when the grumpy, sleepy miner had let him into the tent, and went out of his way drying him off and getting him all warmed up. Even if he had the power to ward off germs that the average inhabitant would suffer from, had he not got out of the rain sooner. Huaso has been very considerate to him, thinking about his safety and well being. And if the knight had to be honest, he’s been looking out for his little friend, too.  
He doesn’t feel hollow on the inside when he’s around Huaso. Heck, maybe he does like the mole after all. So why does Huaso act as though he’s empty inside, gutted, almost lacking the will to keep on? He promised that he wouldn’t leave the miner, didn’t he?

“Don’t feel bad, fellow.” Richard spoke up again, this time excluding Huaso from the conversation, “He shared his heart with someone before you. And since the one with his heart disappeared, he’s still mending. He’s probably trying to move on, but perhaps once he does, he might open his heart to you.”

“I… don’t want to take something that isn’t mine.” the knight glances at the harbringer who’s back is turned on them.

What in Whoever Sam Hill is Pure on about in this seemingly one-sided conversation? Huaso frowns, clearing his throat.

“Alright Rich. I might buy somethin’ from ya after all before we head off.”


	2. Stuck in Amber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traversing through areas that spark happy memories isn't easy for Huaso. At least he has friends to help ease him through the depression stage of grief. But one touchy subject brings to light one of his strongest, innermost demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juuust a heads up; there is a shower scene near the end. |D
> 
> Also, tw; mention of suicide.

Navigating a dense forest, unlike the rainforest where they barely squeezed into a tent to dry Pure off a few nights ago, was preferable to wandering the desert. But it was still muggy. Huaso’s skin felt itchy, he would scratch every now and then, kicking up flakes of skin into the air. Pure recalls that the miner said inhaling the flakes could get him sick. While he does have a robust immune system, Huaso’s words, not his, he wasn’t taking any chances.

It took a total of three days before they emerged on the other side of the dense and muggy Hell patch, but it sure beats walking in an ankle spraining dry-as-fuck sandy desert.

Huaso sighs in relief from the fresh air blowing in to greet them. Up ahead was a green hill with a single tree. Ah yeah… he remembers carrying an unconscious dead purifier up that hill, rendered in such a state because he had been poisoned by Pestilence. It was also where he fed him the Creamy Moloch stew, then took the time to cuddle, point out the things they love about each other, especially the purring… and Eddie explaining his weird dream regarding his essence. At this thought, Huaso directed his gaze up at Pure, who was taking slow easy strides, seeing as he could easily outpace him in a walk if he really tried.

His head seems to be in the clouds again.

What would his essence be like now, if he was able to take a look within a lucid dream? Would it still be colorful with an undertone of black? Or a pallor grey, signs of no memory whatsoever? Maybe it would be a rainbow again, with hues of pastel orange and pink, like the three halos whenever Pure was happy, back when he was under a bastard’s control?

Pure felt pale eyes hidden in red watch him, causing him to break out of his reverie. His cute little friend is checking him out? That’s something new, maybe.

“…What?” he asks with a simper.

“Ah, nothin’. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Huaso grunts in reply.

“If you say so.”

Yes, his friend is cute. He has to agree with Sucré on that.

“Pure, how ‘bout we take a break under this tree? I’m bushed.”

“Break under the tree?”

“As in, we walk up to it an’ sit down? Thought ya know what I meant.”

Last time Huaso suggested a break, the knight literally walked up to the trunk pointed at, and uprooted the poor plant with ease. He had to explain that not every word has the same meanings intended. It’s a headache, to say the least… but Pure is learning.  
Faster than he can grant the knight enough credit for.

“Ah. That kind of break.” Pure nods. He gets it now.

As the larger companion settles with his back resting against the trunk of the tree, taking care not to do anything to mess his wings up, Huaso pulls out some of the sticks and twigs he had collected to start the next camp fire.

~~

With bellies full, the two remain under the tree, watching the bayside town downhill opposite of the muggy forest they left behind. It is night time. So the town in question is shrouded in darkness.

“Is this place special, too?”

Pure asks, unbidden. He’s got this warm fuzzy feeling again, seeing how happy Huaso is to be here.

“Yeah, I guess it is too.” the harbringer replies, content to sit next to the knight. “A string o’ events happened that led up t’ this moment, Pure. Eddie an’ I made the dumb desicion t’ try an’ cross the desert. Between empty mode swings durin’ the hot dry day, to a sudden downpour at night, ‘e kinda made the mistake of pissin’ Pestilence off. After gettin’ poisoned, he was sick for a while, but he did recall one dream; he had seen my essence.”

Perplexed, Pure leans closer.

“Essence… what is that?”

“An essence is the very core of a soul, Pure.” he replies, closing his eyes as he subconsciously leans against the other’s arm, “Ya see, back when Eddie an’ I travelled through the Unload for th’ first time, I didn’ know his name was Eddie. I called him what he told me first an’ foremost; Ghost. He’s dead, he doesn’ have a physical heart of any obvious explanation, or so t’ speak, but he did have somethin’ that gave him form: His essence. He said he saw mine in a fever dream, an’ that one eclipsed the other.  
“It kinda made sense, I guess. I ain’t the only one in this rottin’ vessel, Pure. I share it with the intrusive core of the Corruption, Pestilence ‘imself. But he doesn’ come out ta play until I hit full mode. An’ that doesn’t happen unless I’ve been soaked to the bone fer too long.”

“Pestilence… pes-ti-lence.”

Pure plays with the word on his tongue before shaking his head. “He sounds laid back.”

“He is. Heck, he was chill with Eddie until the first punch was swung at ‘im.”

“When Pestilence comes out again, can you tell him I said ‘hello’?”

“I would, except I usually black out when ‘e does. No difference ta sleepin’. But he’ll know that you’ll say ‘hello’ when ya tell ‘im yerself.”

Huaso gave a stretch. The muggy forest has left him tired, and he’s ready to sleep the night away.

“Did Eddie say anything about your essence, other than finding out that you’re not alone in your body?”

Pure watches Huaso get comfortable against his arm, inwardly debating on just cuddling the inhabitant while they sleep.

“He did.” Huaso mumbles, eyelids closing in the murk, “He said ‘it felt like home’.”

“Hmm…”

The purifier won the internal debate, scooping the harbringer up without getting a single protest from him in response, and pet him gently as he cradles him.

“I have to agree with Eddie on this one. Something about you does remind me of home…”

\--

_A distant boom on the horizon woke Pure up with a start._

_Last time he heard a massive explosion, it was at his hands when he attacked a city neighboring Tri and upsetting many inhabitants._

_That was before he got his targets to purify from Lenny._

_He blinks, trying to ease the fatigue from his eyelids. He checks his arms, momentarily relieved that his friend was still fast asleep in them._

_The pooling warmth in his heart did not last long as whispers and murmurs reached his ears from the bayside town._ _  
_ _Those cumbersome worms were not there before. The buildings were empty, the streets bare, but he could see them. All of them. Lots of small worms, larger ones, each well plated over the back with the bigger ones having amber gems on their backs. And one cluster of orbs and plates sitting closest to the shore. A fading light remains like a glowing beacon on the horizon out into the ocean._

_Wait._

_Where is the plastic that was lapping at the beaches? The tide had literally vanished._

_“Is this another one, papa?”_

_A voice reached Pure’s sensitive ears._

_“No.” The cluster replies, addressing the curious worm, “The last one. Burrowing won’t save us.”_

_At those words, Pure directs his gaze to the horizon, which seems to swell. The plastic was coming back, but approaching at a height and force too cataclysmic for anything to survive. A small spark of panic arrests the purifier’s thoughts; carrying Huaso in one arm, he stands, spreads his wings, and takes up into the air. Normally, he wouldn’t dare fly with his friend on his person, but this was a drastic measure he needed to take._

_He watches, perhaps to his horror, when the massive wave slams into the town, scooping up all the worms in the tide. While the buildings of the town manage to cushion the force, the plastic made to weave and flow around each block, it continues its onward surge. The plastic rose to cover the roots of the tree on the hill they were on just a minute ago._

_Huaso remained blissfully asleep during this entire time. And Pure couldn’t help but feel there was something more that he could have done._

_He wouldn’t have known what to do if he lost his friend._

_But those seemingly sentient lifeforms that minded their own business..._

\--

Once more, Pure awoke with a start, accompanied by a yelp.

Oh… it was a dream? He glances around, then down, relieved once again to see Huaso fast asleep. Well, he was anyway.

“Pure?” Huaso asks, giving into a yawn before pulling the earplugs out, “Ya right?”

“…”

The knight continued to stare. Was that really a dream? “I thought the town got swamped by a big wave…”

Huaso hums in question before looking at the place. He can’t see well in the dark from up here under the tree on the hill, but it has visually changed. And for the worst. Then again, the last time he saw it up close was due to a freak rainstorm drowning the place.

“Huaso? What’s a savior?”

That’s a tough question. Huaso frowns as he thinks hard, before resorting to tap into that external knowledge.

“Lenny didn’ tell ya?”  
Just saying his name left a putrid aftertaste on his tongue, but he gets a grip on his personal vendetta before that thought spirals out of control. “It’s what most Purifiers are, Pure.” he starts, “They work on eradicatin’ the evil within. Fix a root problem from the inside. Which is opposite of what a hero can do, as they work on fightin’ off evil from the outside. I dunno, ya might be seen as a balance of both. Most people, myself included, don’ understand how purification works. Some might actually see ya as a bad guy for that kinda work, but know that I don’t judge ya either way. Alright?”

“I guess…”

Pure looks to the grass blowing in the gentle breeze. “That clone and his friends all had sins that needed addressing, but they resisted. They were marked for purification anyway.”

“What do ya think would’ve happened if ya didn’ do it?”

After Huaso asks this question, Pure remains silent for a while. Contemplating. Getting the gears in his head to churn. He then answers, “A fate worse than what I delivered. U-Gore had his eyes on the clone for a while.”

“And did ya personally believe that? That ya saved them from an alternative, grizzly fate?”

“I don’t know…”

So there it is. Pure was given directions by a puppeteer, but with next to no independent thoughts or opinions all he had to do was act upon it.

In all his time of file hopping, Huaso saw iterations of The Batter with a sleight of independence. He knew what he was doing, he controlled the flow of the story. He just needed help getting there.  
Pure got his script, his targets, and did what any good puppet would do and follow the strings. Should the puppeteer make him pick up a story, he probably wouldn’t have the capacity to put it down and refuse to finish it until said puppeteer was done reading, much to his chagrin. If he was capable of feeling annoyed at that.   
But now, the strings have been cut. The only thing keeping this dangerous weapon from going crazy and stupid was this little bond that has formed somewhere before finding U-Gore.

“Huaso?”

Pure had leaned close as the miner quietly contemplated. The perplexed tone made him flinch from his thoughts as he looked at the knight, “What is it?”

“What was Eddie like? Savior or hero, I mean.”

“That’s an easy one, but also a sad one at that. He’s a hero, maybe a tragic one in every sense. He’s always doin’ his best ta help others. He said that, if he can help it, nobody would be left behind.” Huaso gives a bitter chuckle.

_‘He promised he would never leave me behind.’_

“What does a hero do?”

“Aside from fightin’ off external evil, a hero is someone who’s always tryin’a do the right thing. Some people would praise ‘em for it, others would hate ‘em for it. But takin’ action t’ do a right t’ circumvent a wrong is the gist of it. Even if they have t’ break the rules in place in order t’ prevent a wrong thing from happenin’.”

“I think I want to be a hero. Although I’m a savior, I don’t understand how fighting the evil within benefits anyone, especially when they don’t want the help.”

“Pure, ya do what you want. Do what ya feel is the right thing to do, an’ run with it. An’ while I’ll be in yer corner, cheerin’ ya on, don’ forget that ya also got yerself to rely upon when in a pinch. Especially in a case scenario that I’m not here with you.”

The two stare at each other, longer than necessary before the miner feels a little self conscious about it. The moment he glances away, he hears Pure speak up again.

“It would feel wrong if I were to leave you behind. So I’ll stay with you, by your side, until you think it’s time we part ways.”

 _‘Ah yes. I made that promise with him. But I wasn’t_ physically _by his side this entire time… so I might have broken my promise, too._ ’

~~

Knowing what lies on the other side of the big broad ocean, Huaso opens up a pocket tunnel large enough for Pure to follow with him. They exit into a bleached city, Hollow Metro. He remembers parting ways with a mersen, an Elsen term for merman, at the beach. He also remembers this is where he and Eddie met Flo. Thinking about the former, he makes his way to the beach, with Pure following him quietly.

There was a glint of curiosity in his pale eyes.

“What’s this?”

Pure asks as soon as he steps foot onto a grainy surface the second he got off the bleached concrete stairs.

“That’s sand. Unpleasant stuff if ya ask me.” Huaso grunts, reaching down to sink his claws into the surface before pulling it up, and allowing the sand to flow between his fingers. “Although from what another friend told me, it’s fun ta play with when it’s wet.”

“Sand…”  
That’s a simple word to say. “Saaaaand…”

Pure has been doing less and less of that lately. Maybe he is starting to absorb words better, but if he has trouble with a single word, then he’s prone to be asking questions. It was about time that the knight’s repertoire of words and understanding them gained traction. He almost seems like his old self, almost…

Huaso rewards himself with a solid facepalm for _ever_ thinking like that.

“Huaso? What’s that?”

Ah, looks like Pure found something. The miner walks over to him and follows what he’s pointing at. He squints, clicking his tongue to get a ping on it.

The familiar shape of a mersen is the feedback Huaso gets. They seem to be chilling, or combing the sand for something important. As soon as they notice the two, they’re instantly on guard.  
Huaso recognizes the stranger’s face; wide pale eyes, green shades on the scales and fins, a green light lantern… has it really been that long?

On guard, Mishca relaxes slightly when he recognizes one of them. “Huaso?”

“Mish?” Huaso responds, soon walking over to him, “Holy Hell… how are ya still okay bein’ that far away from the water?”

“It’s a long story.” he sighs, showing no sign on unwinding fully. Who’s the knight that’s with him? He’s heard stories of two knights pulling a prank on the others back home… but that’s neither here nor there.

Huaso notes with another click of his tongue is that Mishca has gained more scars on his person. “It’s been a while, ya know.”

“It has been a while. I mean, I’m officially not the only Mersen anymore. Lepi keeps… getting a hold of people. Some of them are still loyal to the knights. Takes a lot to snap them outta it…”

“Ah, so ya heard of the knights, too?”

Mishca nods.

“Yeah, so… pardon the fact that I’m on guard, but one of them is right th-where’d he go?”

The two look around, Huaso quick to spot Pure by the shore; His bat was left in the sand, he was on his knees, hands messing with the wet stuff. He seems content, a small smile on his face.

“Who, this guy?” Huaso thumb points to him, “He’s with me. He ain’t one o’ the big four with a crystal element an’ such; he was engineered by someone I have a deep-seated hatred for. An’ if I find that idiot, may Epsilon have mercy on his weary soul.”

“…Loudmouth?”

Mishca asks quietly. As he stares at the knight, he eventually figures out that _used_ to be Eddie. But something was wrong. Something has been tampered with.

“The very same, except… not.”  
Huaso confirms in a somber tone, along with a slight nod. “Eddie’s gone…”

“Hey, if I find the guy who did this, I’ll give him a good chomp for ya.” Mishca grins, showing off his sharp teeth.

“I doubt it; with a metal bucket for a head, he ain’t much of a swimmer. On top of that, the fuckin’ bastard is immortal. He’ll respawn once ‘e dies.”

“Damn…”

“I mean, ya can try if ya wanna. Might be cathartic.”

Mishca looks around, spotting Loudmouth again. “He looks like he’s having fun. Though we should, uh, go over there, I’m pretty sure.” he points.

“Need help gettin’ over there, Mish?”

The mersen ponders for a second, his tail twitching in the sand. “That would be nice. Crawling sucks. The grains can get into the wrong scales if you’re not careful, you know what I mean?”

With little difficulty, Huaso picks up the marine biologist in his arms, and walks him back to the lapping shores. As they did so, Pure perks up from his current interest, building a small mound of wet sand.

“Who’s that?”

“One a my friends, Mishca. Mishca, ya might know ‘im as loudmouth, but ‘is name’s Pure.”

“Pure, huh? Pure bland if you ask me, but alright.”

The mersen holds out a hand.

Pure blinks, spotting the webbing between the fingers and claws. “Hey, are you alright?”

It took Mishca a second to realize that the big ol’ knight was pointing at the webbing between the fingers. Huaso wasn’t wrong! The poor dude is as curious as a talkative five year old. He couldn’t help but chuckle.  
“Relax, I’m not hurt. That’s natural for me. They help make swimming easier.”

“Swimming…”

“Pure, ya can’t swim. Ya already know how ta fly.”

“I know. Figured as much when my wings got soaked in the rain.”

Pure redirects his half vacant gaze to the outstretched hand. He figures out he should return it, raising one of his own. Covered in grainy damp sand.

“Ya know, I ain’t gonna hold ya hand if it’s sandy.”

When the hand was within reach, Mishca grabs it with care, not to startle the knight with his claws, and gives it a slight handshake. “Doesn’t bother me.”

Pure smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

He doesn’t know what he and Mish did just holding and shaking hands, but it seems like a greeting gesture. Once the handshake was done and Mishca let's go, Pure took a moment to stare at his hand. It’s unusual; why are his hands big again?

“You know, they say big hands are better for holding.” Mishca speaks up, tail giving a flick.

At this, Huaso finishes his trek to the lapping shores and sets the mersen down.  
Okay, so he did drop him after reaching an inch above the sand, earning a soft ‘ouch’ from him.

“An’ I said we ain’t holdin’ hands if his are sandy.”

The words stuck in Pure’s head, looking them over more, before subsequently getting back to building his very first sand castle.

“Trapped blood can only hide so much, hardhat.” Mishca smiles, baring his fangs in the progress, “You’re hurting. I’ve dealt with that when I found some of Lepi’s survivors.”

“Nice insight, smartass.” the miner grunts, folding his arms, “I am hurtin’. Eddie’s gone, yet he,” he pauses, thumb pointing over his shoulder at Pure once again, “is all I got that’s stoppin’ me lookin’ for ways out of this rottin’ body. Only a few will miss me should I finally succeed.”

“Hey, hold on.”

The mersen raises a hand, sitting up better while partially relieved to feel the plastic on his scales again, “Even if it’s just a few people, they’d still miss you to Hell and back, I’m sure.”

“They’ll jus’ grieve for a week, an’ git over it.”

“You’re grieving now. How long has that been going for?”

Huaso blinks.

It’s been going for a few months. He’s been stuck on stage one, denial, until a week after his intervention attempt at Pure when he finally reached U-Gore. He got over denial when it was confirmed that Pure remembered nothing about being Eddie. Which leads onto anger, then bargaining.  
If he’s sad and mopey, and coming up with somber songs on almost a nightly basis, then he must be stuck on stage four; depression.

“Grief isn’t as simple as some people make it out to be. It happens to everyone, and it can happen in different orders, but it’s a natural healing process. Even after reaching the end of it, something might set off the whole process again with a trigger. And if you get stuck on one of those stages, you might never reach acceptance, but don’t try to force yourself to move on regardless until _you_ are ready.”

“Mish, I’ve always been suicidal, ever since I awoke in the furnace…”

This comment gets Pure’s attention, eyes wide, about a few clumps of wet sand away from finishing.

“It’s that I _physically cannot_ commit to it, no matter how hard I try. If my life is in danger, the coward’s option is out the window. The brain virus, or Necroa, hijacks my entire nerve system, an’ I do everythin’ against my desire to right myself if I try ta land on my back, rather than my feet, for instance.   
“Dyin’ sucks, bein’ burnt sucks, bein’ contagious fuckin’ sucks, goin’ on a lucid auto-pilot for self-preservation _definitely_ fuckin’ sucks. My existence is a miserable mess, an’ I don’ know how long it took for me t’ be at peace with that. But… Eddie made it bearable. His life was just as big an’ hot of a mess as mine was, an’ we agreed to stick it out, stick it to th’ man behind the sucky aspects of life, an’ enjoy what we can. But one misadventure through the Boxed Kingdom, friends used as pawns in this sick game, a reunion an’ execution of his old man later, an’ grief gits the better of him too. He turned to someone for help with this. He wanted to stop runnin’ and git stronger… The bastard destroyed every ounce of ‘is memory, includin’ memories of his brothers, his friends, even me… an’ for what? To get vengeance on a sadistic god of his own creation? Fuck him! Fuck him for his personal gain, an’ the distruction to th’ lives of many, especially Eddie’s!”

Ah shit, here comes the rain again. The goggles might be able to hide it, but the scent of salt is there. He chokes on a sob.

“Huaso?”

Before the harbringer could respond, he felt a hand slip to his chest, easily picking him up, and being cuddled with his back pressed to the knight’s front.

“Pure… Mish… I-I’m sorry ya both had ta see me like this…”

He dusts his hands off of the sand, trying to hug back, closing his eyes with a shuddering sigh.

The mersen sits up, giving a pat to the miner’s shoulder since Pure carelessly sat in the wet sand. “Hey, I get it. I know how loss feels… my partner never made it out of the file. Got purified… my shitty coping mechanism was being an asshole to everyone. You’re doing a lot better than me and I’m proud of you for that.”

“…I’m proud of you, too.” Pure spoke up. Most of the words he didn’t quite understand, but during Huaso’s depressive rant he understood the tone. The same sad tone that seems to linger behind the happy memories. Bittersweet memories.  
This Eddie must have been a wonderful purifier in the harbringer's life, and Pure begins to wish he met Eddie, get some sound advice to continue being a positive presence to Huaso. It hurts, seeing and hearing him be this sad, and having no clue how to put a band aid on it. It makes him question if he did anything wrong.

“Thanks… b-both of ya.” Huaso hiccups, rubbing his goggles again. Being surrounded by friends, one of which capable of helping him process a portion of his grief, is what he needed.

~~

Either someone has staked a claim in this city, or someone with a strong presence, likely a harbringer, has been laid to rest there. Because Hollow Metro is still here since Huaso first arrived.

Hilariously, the watering system works just as normal. After calming down, bidding Mishca goodbye, and finding the public bathrooms in the same abandoned gym, he tells the knight that he’s heading in to have a shower and wash the sand off. As well as remove the goggles and rinse out the blood clots. He also tells Pure that he’s welcome to find a separate shower stall to rinse off the sand, but he doesn’t have spare clothes for him.

Although it would be bad to let the knight walk around naked or wearing wet clothes, if he’s dense enough to neglect undressing himself before turning the shower on.

Little did Huaso know, is that Pure kept a spare set in his helmet. Convenient hammer space, much like pestilence’s own backpack, or pocket tunnel in times of storing larger items.

Pure was done in as little as five minutes, getting the grainy substance washed out, folding up his wet clothes, turning the shower off, drying off thoroughly, getting his spare set out and getting dressed again before cramming the wet bundle into his helmet. That was easy. Yet the shower running in the next stall over got his attention.  
What’s taking his little friend long? Didn’t Huaso say that too much water or plastic is bad for him? And after his little outburst today, Pure didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone.

He decides it’s worth the risk. Using his height to his advantage, he peers over the stall.

Huaso was staring at the back wall, goggles off, ignorant of the water running down his somewhat boney frame. Surely he had more fat on him when they first met, or so the knight thinks. He had his gaze fixated on an engravement.

 _‘Here lies Peace the 3rd. May we meet again as stars, my dearest friend._ _  
_ _~War the 3rd_ ’

Pure’s shoe squeaks on the tiles as he shifts his weight, seeing as the other’s body gets him curious.

A blinding echo alongside the squeak got Huaso’s attention, his head moving quickly to see the shoes under the neighboring stall, pointed in his direction, before he shifted his gaze upwards.

They lock eyes, and Pure feels his spine freeze again, hands gripping the top of the wall that it cracks a little under pressure. Just as the sensation passes, the miner’s undead brains catch up to him. And he goes from calm, to irked, to distressed in a second as his hands move to cover himself up, at least make himself decent.

“ _Pure, what the Hell?!_ ”

“…What?”

“For pity’s sake, Pure! If yer done, go wait outside!”

Huaso barks, pointing in the direction where they initially came into the public bathrooms.

“After today? I don’t think so.” Pure replies quietly. Huaso is making a fuss out of nothing.

“Then _at least_ quit lookin’ into my stall, ya dummy!”

“What’s a dummy-?”

“ _Not now, Pure! Not fuckin’ now! I ain’t got time fer questions!_ ”

Right. Huaso’s getting livid. Pure finally stops looking over the wall and leaves his stall, sitting on a bench nearby.  
He has to admit though… that is a pretty behind his little friend has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A some something from another game makes a cameo in this chapter. Can you guess what it is?
> 
> Also, credits to May (ancientforestdeity on Tumbr) for letting her OC Mishca be present in this fiction too.


	3. Urban Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After setting the appointment with an endearing friend in Flo, the two wayward souls have three days to make it to the village of the birds.
> 
> This is the first leg, through the urban jungle of Hollow Metro. And while the cerebral cobwebs didn't give way easily, talking about the lore of the knights and memories of Eddie did help Huaso find the tail end of grief.
> 
> ...But will it last?

The sooner the annoying firebug answers him, the better.

Granted, he can be busy as fuck, but after having his patience tried for the past few days, Huaso had next to none left to give. He waits for the phone on the other end to pick up, or switch to voicemail. Or, better yet, have his secretary pick it up.  
Dammit, he didn’t want to admit this, but he misses Florence as well.

Pure stands nearby, quiet, though his gaze is fixed on the bleached leaves of a tree as he watches what looks like a pair of Tiburce chase one another. They were squirrel-like, playful, ignorant of the two potential threats nearby. Still, in case they decide to cause him or his little friend trouble, he had his bat out and resting on his shoulder.

“Oh, _finally!_ ” Huaso exclaims into the small device in his hand, causing Pure to jump. “About time ya picked up!”

“Yes, sorry about that!” came an excited voice on the other end, “I told my secretary to forward your number directly to me earlier. I had a feeling you would call today!”

“I wasn’ cutting into one of yer appointments, was I?”

“No, you’re fine! I am having a lunch break though!”  
The sound of a sip could be heard over the phone. “Anyway, how’s your search for Eddie going? Have you found him yet?”

“Well, see, this is what I wanted ta talk t’ ya about…”

Huaso shifted his gaze downwards as he said this, “I think I wanna make an appointment with ya after all. How soon will ya be available?”

“About… hmm…”

Flo pauses, putting his cup down as he looks through both his papers and a timetable on his computer, “My earliest is in three days, in the morning. Where are you?”

“I’m in Hollow Metro.”

“Oh! That place? That’s where we met for the first time! And it’s the perfect travelling distance if you don’t want to throw down a tunnel!”

“Indeed, Flo.” Huaso hums, closing his eyes. “So, three days' time. What time in the morning?”

“Ah, about ten. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’ll be okay.”

“Say, you sound sad. A lot more than usual. And it’s genuine, not just ‘fuck off I’m not in the mood’ kind of sadness. Did… did something happen to Eddie?”

Huasp gave a heavy sigh. No, he’s not going to let himself rant and rave again. “I will admit; I’ve found ‘im, but he ain’t the same…”

“What do you mean ‘not the same’?”

“…Amnesia, otherwise not specified.”

The two on the call gave pause.

Pure began to wander off, following the two squirrelly ghouls, but made sure he kept within Huaso’s hearing range.

“Listen, I’ll tell ya more when we get there.”

“Alright, alright. Chin up, Hua! I know you sound like a legitimate raincloud this time, but don’t forget I’m in your corner, too! Yours and Eddie’s! I’ll find a way to make the sun shine again!”

~~

Florence better keep his word if and when they arrive.

Huaso hung up after some banter, and admittedly he felt a little better catching up. The two resume their trek through the urban jungle, spotting signs of life having lived there at least once before. Maybe the survivors that fall unto the Unload File try and make their way here first. It’s a place far away from Unu, Du, Tri, and Estate Kvar. If possible, smack bang in the middle of the entire Unloading.

“Why are so many doors small?” Pure asks, frowning, “I’ll have to crawl to get through them.”

“It’s the standard height f’ most inhabitants. Either that, or yer a giant.”

“Giant?”

“Someone who’s unusually large. A towerin’ person. Though, considerin’ how you’ve been treatin’ me, I’d argue that yer a gentle giant.”

“Gentle?”

“Someone who shows a mild, kind, or tender temperament or character.”

“…Kind of like you?”

Huaso gives a laugh. It is a good laugh; it doesn’t sound forced, or bitter, or sad. It makes Pure smile.

“I guess ya could say so, but that’s an opinion I won’ judge ya on.”

It seems to be the new norm. If a word stands out, Pure would ask about it, and Huaso would answer it to the best of his memory, or tap into external knowledge. Honestly, he didn’t mind teaching individual words by now. It was troublesome at first, because Pure was still new to the whole learning how to live.

Or… relearning how to live again.

“Huaso? You’re making that face again…”

“Hm?”

Huaso perks up, seeing Pure with a worried frown. Guess he’s been paying extra attention since his little outburst on the beach. Why is that?

Eddie did commit suicide as a means to save his little brother, but he failed to save himself in the process… As far removed from his memories as he is, does the term stand as a red flag to the knight?

“It feels like, just as we’re making progress, something sad crosses your mind and you take three steps backwards. I wish I could help you, just as much as you have been helping me understand words, and the world around us, but I don’t know if I’m doing anything wrong. I don’t know if I hurt you in any way.”

“It ain’t yer fault, Pure,” Huaso grunts, “You jus’ happen t’ have a familiar face, and an endearin’ personality. Ya remind me of Eddie, a lot, actually. But I know who you are; you’re Pure. And I need t’ stop conflatin’ the two.”

“Conflate?”

“Combinin’ two separate things.”

Pure puts a finger on his chin, eyes squinting as he looks at one of the tall buildings.

“It’s a stupid thought, but is it possible that I was once Eddie?”

“Maybe.” The miner shrugs, “Maybe not. I’ll let ya decide on that one.”

“If it makes you happy, do I try and be more like Eddie?”

Ah, wrong question. His little friend didn’t like that.

“I’d rather ya didn’ if it’s for my sake. You do what ya want, be who ya want, as long as it makes _you_ happy.”

“It makes me happy when you’re happy.”

“Well, pretendin’ ta be Eddie ain’t a way t’ go, Pure.”

Huaso resumes walking, with the knight following him. Did that sound like hypocrisy just now? Pure can do what he wants as long as he’s happy. But Pure is happier than usual if he can make the miner happy. Eddie once made the miner happy, but Pure pretending to be Eddie does not.

How can he circumvent this?

~~

How far do the suburban estates stretch on for?

The tall buildings being the center of the metro were standing on the horizon now, with the mist in the air giving it that distant cloudy look. Furthermore, the lingering power of Peace the 3rd seems to stretch on for miles. Each house, long looted or abandoned. Each shop closed for business.

Except for one.

Noticing this, Pure breaks away from Huaso’s side to check out this shop.

When he reaches the window, he almost double takes.  
Inside this building was the merchant Huaso caught up with earlier. Sucré, wasn’t it?  
The other merchant the knight was more familiar to. Apparently, she is, or was, Mark’s girlfriend, or love interest at the time he learned of her. Thinking about Mark just now… a spark of guilt forms in the pit of his stomach.

Was it the right thing to do, to purify Mark back there? He did get in between himself and his primary target, Clone 81…

“Pure, what’cha lookin’ at now?”

Huaso was by his side, just as curious. When he couldn’t get a ping, he finds the door and grabs the handle. Instinctively, Pure moves to follow, but stops when Huaso holds up a hand. “I think Sarah’s in there. Wait outside, please.”

“Why?”

“If ya were able t’ flatten Mark in a single strike, how’d ya think his girlfriend, Sarah, will react to yer presence?”

Pure glances down. Great, now the guilt made itself present two-fold.

“I was… I was just following orders…”

The miner gave a sigh. “I know. An’ while Sucré will be happy ta see ya again, I don’ think Sarah will take kindly t’ yer presence. So please, wait outside for me. Okay?”

Pure nods, albeit reluctantly. His little friend said ‘please’; he can’t ignore that.  
Which is better than when he thinks of the time that helmeted guy ordered him around. And now that he thinks about it more, Huaso becomes very livid whenever the helmeted guy is ever brought up in a conversation.  
He sits under a bleached tree, watching the clouds for now.

~~

“Mushroom~! :-,D”

Sucré cheered, easily spotting pestilence walking through the door, “I didn’t think we would run into each other again so soon! :-,)”

“Hey there, crazy lady.” he greets with a weary smile.

“Where’s scary ghosty moth? :-0”

“He’s outside. Ya can say hi to ‘im if ya like.”

Huaso thumb points to the door, watching as the merchant makes her way out.

This left the harbringer in question with the other merchant, an amorphic ghost, with a crescent shaped head? Cat ears? Something like that. It would make sense seeing as her tail is also long. This is clearly a girl who already has her eyes on a man.

“You’re not Zinzo. He doesn’t wear goggles, and you don’t look like the type to stuff whole loaves of bread into your mouth and make off without paying.”

“I know ya speakin’ yer mind, ma’am, but I beg yer pardon.”  
Huaso folds his arms. He’s _slightly_ offended by this; being compared to the inhabitant with the squeaky voice. Is it because they’re both Elsen? “I’m Huaso, Class Harbringer, Grade Pestilence. It’s also obvious that yer a ghost of some description, else I wouldn’ be in this building.”

“Ah. I see. I might have seen you before. My name’s Sarah Balenye.”

As she spoke, Huaso could see a gap tooth in her mouth. Almost reminds him of Ballman…

“Are you looking to buy something?”

“Sorry Sarah. I don’ have any credits on me. My friend an’ I haven’t been tanglin’ with ghouls and spectres lately.”

“Is it because you’re loyal to another merchant?”

“Not particularly. Although, yeah, Sucré an’ I came from the same file. The merchant before her died at the hands of the Queen. But that’s another story.”

“I heard about that! She told me herself; she used to live in the basement of a house owned by a cat. Almost the same house as Zinzo once resided in.”

“Well Sarah, y’ain’t wrong. An’ I wouldn’t be too surprised if it got replaced, since Zinzo might’ve been down for the count long ‘nuff t’ lose his stake of claim.”  
He gives a sigh, looking at the ceiling, before looking at Sarah again. Speaking of Zinzo, who died along with three others... “Have ya seen Mark again lately?”

“Only for a little bit after he went with the others to shatter Metal Knight’s crystal. But one of my favorite customers, 81, wasn’t there on the return trip. Neither was Ylidomda. Mark looked guilty, as though he had let someone down. He and Zinzo were in a sobering mood.”

“Did ya find out what happened to 81?”

He knew, but he had to be sure the whole Super Joker spam was discreet on a friend’s part.

“A knight, unlike the four elementals, intercepted and took out the entire party. He was boasting an abundance of pure energy, or so my hunk told me.” Sarah blushes, but soon shakes it off. “Ylidomda, 81, my man… even Zinzo was floored by this knight. I really wouldn’t want to meet him to be honest, but I can’t also help but imagine how hot he would be.”

A twinge of jealousy shoots through the harbringer, but he keeps his expression and stance indifferent.

“Mark looks relatively downtrodden, so he’s off somewhere in the Unloaded. I’m positive I’ll see him again, if the big knight doesn’t find him, or me, first.”

“You mean scary ghosty moth? He’s right outside! :-D”

Ah shit. Sucré overheard that, quickly put two and two, and had to open her big mouth.

~~

There really wasn’t much else to be said, or worth listening to. Two merchants bonded over the loss of a close one, whether permanent or otherwise. But to one another, they are still competition. Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, if Zacharie was here instead of Sucré, Sarah would be in a spot of trouble.

Pure’s presence alone made the local ghosty merchant pack up shop and retreat in a record jiffy. Neither Huaso nor Sucré could blame her, but the former reassured the knight that he shouldn’t feel bad about it. He already has enough on his plate, trying to learn new things, explore while within reason, and doing everything he can not to piss the little mole off.  
That last part is hard. He’s not a mind reader, but he’s grown attentive when something does trouble Huaso. He’s able to spot common quirks to when, and if, he starts lying. Which Pure is pretty sure that the other rarely does to begin with.

He also notices that there are instances where memories of Eddie either bring moments of happiness, or the bittersweet blues. He’s not sure if the tension between them is shrinking or growing; he would like for it to shrink. He doesn’t want to be the one to push his little friend away.

A delighted gasp as the miner spots something; a bleached home, with the garage wide open. And a working bench. “Pure, let’s check this out!”

“But why?” he asks, following the other anyway. Although he’s still fiercely loyal and obedient, he’s been asking questions in opposition to some actions. Should he, though? “Isn’t that someone’s home?”

“I can smell nothin’ but stale dust from it. It’s long abandoned, but… I might be able ta build somethin’ to shelter us _both_ from the rain.”

And a good thing he stocked up on materials. He had a feeling in his iron infused bones about this. As he lays them out on the bench, he starts his measurements before looking back at Pure, who had to hunch over a little while standing in the garage.

“Friend, think ya can step outside fer a bit?”

“Why?”

There’s that question again.

“Well, I can’ git started on draftin’ blueprints if I don’ measure ya. We’re makin’ a bigger tent, for those rainy nights. And ya clearly need the sleepin’ room.”

“I could lie down. There’s plenty of floor space.”

“I guess… actually, that’s a good idea.”

When the miner and the knight clear up the garage of its clutter, the latter lies down on his back, while being mindful of his wings. “What’s that on the ceiling?”

“A lightbulb. To illuminate dark places.”

“How does that work?”

“I can’ demonstrate it right now, but it usually involves a switch. It’s most effective when it’s night time. Or, heck, even while travellin’ in a dark tunnel.”

“Oh, kind of like your head lamp shining a beam of light?”

“Almost.”

He takes the measuring tape, going from foot to head. He gives a sigh, though grinning.

“Almost?”

“Yup. The lightbulb on the ceilin’ doesn’t just illuminate in a funnel pointed in any one direction, unless we’re talkin’ about a lampshade added on top a that. The bulb in the ceiling is used to light the entire room. Anyway, think ya can take off yer helmet an’ shoes real quick, please?”

“I can do that.”

After taking a few more measurements, Huaso jots them down, and applies them to his blueprint draft. Maybe here isn’t the best place to build. What if Pure is right, and the place isn’t as abandoned as he originally thought?

Thoughts to worry about later. Pure watches as Huaso rolls up the drafts and slips them away into a bag. “As long as it doesn’ rain, we should be fine sleepin’ under the stars.”

Seeing his friend happy, without a malicious thought crossing his face, gives him hope.

~~

Of course, it rains.

Of course, it also means that Pure will have to shed his armor and sleep, curled up as tight as he can in the damn tent they have right now, although the giant didn’t seem to mind. As long as he’s not left sitting in the rain.

Of course, they could have hunkered down in one of the houses, but they had left the suburban behind by the time the sun began to set.

Of course, with the limited space to begin with, Huaso had no place but to be cradled in the other’s arms.

And, of course, Pure was getting curious again. He was not going to nod off, not while there’s questions in his once-vacant-now-active mind.

“Huaso? Sucré mentioned some knights live in this land. Do you know any of them?”

When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he dares to poke the miner on his nose.

“Huh? I guess.” He reaches up, grabbing the poking finger to push away gently.  
“I’ve only ever known of one. Metal Knight. He resides in region Tri, arguably the most inhabitable of the four established sections, stake claims aside. He likes music, plays with his guitar, a real metal head, an’ can wield both music and the element o’ metal in combat. He’s weak t’ meat, but strong against plastic. Sturdy like a rock. He has a girlfriend in the form of Smoke Knight, an’ a sibling in Meat Knight. Prone t’ sayin’ strings of profanities worse than Eddie aside, he’s an all around good dude. As long as Smoke is alive and well, that is.”

“Metal Knight is the one who’s crystal I shattered, right?” he watches as Huaso nods to confirm this, “Who’s Smoke?”

“I don’ know her, but give me a second t’ think…" Huaso gives pause, closing his eyes in the murk of his goggles as he reaches in deep at the external knowledge. Sadly, it seems strictly limited, but at least he manages to grasp something to explain with.  
“Smoke Knight resides in region Unu, where the worms live. Zinzo’s Zone 0 was stationed around there somewhere too. Anyway, Smoke Knight is _fussy_. Nothin’ is perfect, nothin’ is ever good enough for her an’ she’ll kick up a stink about it if it so much as falls short from it. Her bots cop a lot of flack from her. She’s weak t’ plastic, and strong t’ meat. She skillfully wields the element of her namesake like a gale force, jus’ like her fussy temper. Her siblin’ is Plastic, an’ she’s dating Metal. She also has quite a sweet tooth, so if ya still want a shot at her good side, try bakin’ somethin’ nice."

Another pause, as Huaso rummages in his mind for more information on the knights, before grinning about the next two.

“I’m sure ya wanna hear the rest; Plastic Knight. He’s somewhat smug an’ full of ‘imself. He lives in region Du, which is flooded. Uninhabitable, as goin’ full mode is a huge risk for me. He fights with the ebb and flow of the tides, an’ has an amorphous form hidin’ under his armor, akin to a fish, or merman. He’s strong against smoke, but weak t’ metal. He’s Smoke’s sibling and has no relationship interests, but is frequently pestered by Meat. Fun fact; he’s a fan o’ Panic in Ballville.  
“And then there’s Meat Knight. Arguably the least known of the four, it is rumored they were once an iteration of Sucré, so they’re likely ta use emotes when talkin’. They live in Estate Kvar, the land of eldritch meat formations. It’s also a place I cannot inhabit. Sure, meat is all I can consume, but it ain’t somethin’ I can live in, I’ll frequently hit empty mode if I do. Meat Knight is also one that likes t’ stand out, often takin’ the form of a pirate rather than a knight. They’re weak t’ smoke, but strong against metal. They’re siblin’s with Metal, an’ currently single, but is open for a relationship. Rumor has it that they’re the most favorited by U-Gore himself.”

Explaining it all put a bit of a strain on his one active neuron. He could feel the fatigue crawling in. Though, Pure’s amazed expression was worth seeing.

“Those four knights were crafted by U-Gore himself, right? So, then… why am I a knight?”

“I dunno.” Huaso rasps, stretching before relaxing in his arms, listening to the rain pelt the tarp outside. “That’s a question we can both ask if we see Lenny again.”

A frown creased itself on his goggles. His name still tastes disgusting.

Pure gave pause to this. He’s a knight, but not made by UG. He remembers hanging out with the helmeted man more than once; being controlled, being told what to do. But he doesn’t remember beyond waking up from a world of black. However, Huaso did mention that Eddie went to see a man of similar description. Is it possible?  
Does that mean…?

“Huaso? I need to know; was I Eddie once?”

He really doesn’t want to tell him, thinking he’s not ready, but…  
Huaso stares at the knight, almost distracted by the soft locks. Eddie had black hair. What hair color Pure had, Huaso hasn't been paying attention to, even with goggles off.

“Eddie’s a stickler for the truth, so I’ll honor his memory one last time; yes, ya were. You remember nothin’ about bein’ Eddie because of the man who made you a knight. Ya weren’t brought int’ existence by UG, but the man who had a feud with the gods, always tryin’ a tell him what t’ do.  
“This man was once a Harbringer of Death; which generation, I don’ know. While he was the harbringer, he made a deal with someone who had an untimely demise, Boxedman. In exchange for a second wind t’ continue raisin’ Eddie and Fred, one had t’ die and the other had t’ become a monster. After they served their purpose guidin’ the perfect Purifier, Theodore, they would be relieved of their duties an’ live as a family. But whoever died would eventually return to the Ex-Bringer of Death to complete his end o’ the deal.”

“I don’t remember any of this.” Pure says, glancing away before looking at Huaso again, “But it makes sense, somehow.”

“Pure, you are, more or less, a clean slate. What ya choose t’ do with this knowledge is up to you. Eddie had many problems goin’ on in his life, and I dunno if he even wants t’ come back t’ another pile o’ guilt. Which is why I’m tryin’ ta come t’ peace with ‘im actually bein’ gone, an’ form a new friendship with ya in the process. I know… it’s hard, an’ I’ve been insufferable to ya, but you stickin’ it out for me? I appreciate it. I really do…”

Pure smiles. He almost wants to kiss the other. Almost…

“I think you, and one or two others, worked behind the scene to foil that man’s plan for vengeance. We didn’t kill U-Gore, because as you said; if we did we wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I guess ya could say that. The man with the bucket head didn’ count on the fact that Eddie would’ve made some friends with the harbringers, let alone fall in love with me. He didn’ count on Boxedman comin’ back as a ghost, hoardin’ all the Super Jokers. He didn’ count on me bein’ a 4th Wall breaker, able t’ spot that he was trouble from a mile away. An’ he definitely didn’ count on Cecilma. But even then, I would’ve come lookin’ for Eddie, as I love ‘im too. Instead, I find you, you found me when I was at my lowest, and I’m glad we’re able t’ be friends.”

Huaso gives into a yawn. A nuzzle catches him off guard, causing him to squeak.

“There have been instances where I get a déjà vu sensation when I look at things.” Pure closes his eyes, feeling calcified sugar-formed claws comb his hair, “Maybe I am still Eddie, in a way. But if you’re still trying to heal from the pain the amnesia has brought, then I’ll try my level best not to upset you.”

Pure did not expect the arms to wrap around his neck, followed by a nuzzle to his cheek. “What are you doing?” he chuckles. This is adorable.

“It ain’t yer fault, Pure. But it is why I say ‘do what ya want’, and ‘don’t pretend t’ be Eddie for my sake’. You just keep on bein’ you.” The miner grunts as he feels the arms cuddle him in return.  
“Ya know, I think we really needed that talk.” He could say he has almost found his peace at last.

He has found acceptance.


	4. Skip, Jump, Glide, Purr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of travel bonding time, some fluff, catching up on friends, finding Health the 3rd's grave...
> 
> And questions on whether sleeping under the stars is ideal or not.

Limited sleeping room aside, both were able to get a good night’s rest.

An immense weight has been lifted from Huaso’s shoulders, he could feel it. He could also tell there’s a slight spring in Pure’s steps, a smile on his face, his gaze focused forward as though ready to tackle the day. With the tent quickly packed, the two continue their trek towards the village of the birds.

Had they been sitting on the tall buildings of Hollow Metro, they would have been able to spot a temple in the distance. As they walk by, the knight asks if they could stop and chat with whomever could be living in there. Humoring his knight friend, Huaso agrees.

~~

They didn’t stay very long. Par, the monk of the temple was very quick to hide behind his guard, Reinzi. Pure’s imposing power probably scared the monk and left the guard on edge. They did get a brief explanation out of Huaso, with Par noticing that pestilence has finally got over the healing stage. It was a remarkable feat.

They had to pass through the filtration system, with pipes, lots of swimming, and a close call on Huaso’s end in regards to going full for being soaked in the cold water for too long. Apparently, since the first, and last time they passed through, a pipe has been broken after another slab of metal fell, and the entire thing has since flooded. But it was also another area where another strong soul was laid to rest.

Pure finds it this time, waving for the harbringer to come on over, sit on his shoulder, and shine a light on a faint engraving on a pipe that was still intact.

 _‘Here lies Health the 3rd. Even in the dampest of times, perseverance always paid off as the candle light still glows._ ’

~~

Night time saw them sleep within the sewers.

At least it wasn’t spent uncomfortably in the small tent. They had one more whole day to make it to the village of the birds. Not once during the day did Huaso’s mood turn sour, which in turn would leave Pure to question if he did anything wrong.

Well, aside from that close call to full mode. Neither knew how they would respond if Pestilence took the driver’s seat. But Pure did say he wanted to tell Pestilence he said hello.

They got up early, and continued onwards as soon as the grates overhead showed signs of lighting up. Ever since Huaso came clean, Pure has since stopped asking questions. Maybe there aren't many questions left to answer. Is he mad?

“Pure?”

Huaso spoke up, glancing at the knight as he did.

“What is it?” he asks, perplexed.

“How are ya doin’, buddy?”

“Fine, I guess.” Pure pauses as he frowns in thought, “Nothing has changed between us, has it?”

“Nah, not that I can say. Well, other than the fact that I’ve found peace. You, on the other hand… you’ve gone quiet.”

“I have?”  
Pure points to himself as he asks, then looks at his hands again. Huh… that mersen did say something about his hands being perfect for holding. “I do have many questions, but I don’t know if I’m annoying you with them.”

“Ya don’ annoy me, Pure.”

Huaso stops, looking at the knight who is twice his height. “I’ve actually gotten used to ya askin’ questions. It shows that ya have a very curious mind. So, excuse me for bein’ pushy, but do ya have a question now?”

“I do. Uhm…” the knight looks at his hands again, “Do you think we could… we could hold hands?”

That’s new. Huaso blinks at this, before raising one of his own hands. “I guess we could.”

Height disparity be damned, right?

Nearing the end of a large cement cylinder, likely a sewer tunnel, the two spot a light up ahead. They were soon to be leaving the filtration system. A warm sensation begins to flood in Huaso’s cold heart. He remembers the time that he and Eddie first held hands; during that climb up the rainbow staircase to Heaven. And they didn’t stop holding until they checked out the amusement park that was under construction, shortly before Omega came out to meet them.  
Pure’s hands are a little bit bigger than they were back when he was Eddie, but they were still very soft. Soft enough for the feedback to reach his hands hiding within the calcified sugar that made up his burnt claws. It’s a pity that he couldn’t hug an arm and not worry about keeping up with him; the knight has shoulders now.

Leaving the tunnel, the landscape opens up to a barren wasteland. Shrubs, dust, and dirt everywhere. A far cry from the temple that was surrounded by water a ways before the filtration system. But on the other side of this wasteland would lie another dense forest, and Flo’s hospital not far from the village of the birds.

Between the filtration system and the forest, a ranch in the middle of nowhere can be seen, right there on the horizon with the green backdrop. This must be Mida’s farm, complete with dry yet edible grass for the livestock to graze on. Huaso gives Pure a look.

“It won’ be hot enough t’ drive me insane, but we mustn’t linger regardless. Abundance and Famine can be found ‘ere.”

“We met Peace and War back at that temple, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.” Huaso grunts with a nod, starting their pace slow, “If ya think we need to pick up the pace, feel free t’ grab me an’ start with that skip ‘n glide.”

“Noted.”

Pure smiles, keeping at his friend’s pace. They were still holding hands.

~~

Stopping by Mida’s ranch was inevitable. Pure got too hungry to ignore the smell of something delicious.

While doing his best not to chase the ranch owner, and subsequently get chased by an angry Pastel Equestrian, the two stop by to visit anyway. Free of charge, they were able to restock their food count, including a fair amount of meat. As well as some fruit and vegetables, exclusive for Pure to eat once cooked, or raw if he prefers. Seeing Mida again, cracking the occasion joke, and Carbine being curious about the knight… it was nice. For the first time, Carbine didn’t feel so bad being the only tall being for miles around.

They couldn’t stay long. There were too many healthy inhabitants around, and the last thing Huaso wanted to do was get any one of those poor nerds as sick as a dog. Though Mida said it was fine, the bringer of pestilence refused to take any risks.

~~

As the heat of the day reaches its peak, Pure decides to pick up his friend, get a running start and glide over the dusty landscape, just like they talked about before leaving the sewers. It was fun, Huaso had to admit. It was quite an adrenaline rush, akin to experiencing airtime on a roller coaster going over a fast, floaty hill. He starts purring after a while, enjoying the embrace but also the thrill. He forgot what it’s like to ride on roller coasters.

He had spent so much time quitting his work on his home file, keeping an eye on Eddie without being too intrusive (or, maybe he wasn’t intrusive enough), working at construction sites, and everything else in between, he has never given himself time to go have some fun. He is jostled out of his thoughts when Pure glides to a stop, and doesn't have a gentle landing right before the frontier of trees. Unlike the few forests they have traversed through, this one wasn’t bleached by purification. A gentle breeze wafts between the thick trunks of the cedar and pine, a welcoming relief from the heat of the barren landscape behind them.

“Now what?” Pure asks, looking at his friend in his arms.

“Now? Well…” Huaso thinks for a bit, “Why not try perchin’ on a study tree branch above the canopy? We’re lookin’ for a tall white rectangular buildin’. That would be the hospital he works at.”

“Should I put you down for this?”

Pure asks, looking unsure. The miner seems content to remain in his arms.

“Only if ya think ya might find a spectre up there. Otherwise, there’s enough broad daylight for me t’ see if we can spot the hospital.”

“Okay… hold on.”

The knight spreads his wings again before making the jump, Huaso giving a chuckle from the sudden acceleration in altitude. He opens his eyes once his friend lands on a branch that can bear their combined weight.  
Nothing but the sea of trees met their gaze. Clicking his tongue up here would do him no good, even if it’s broad daylight. But it felt good to get a decent view.

“Pure, what should we do? Do we stick to th’ undergrowth, or would ya like ta hop from branch t’ branch?”

“I could fly higher to locate this hospital. But I don’t want to risk it while carrying you.”

“Yer very considerate, ya know…”

“What’s considerate?”

“Bein’ thoughtful, mindful, concerned of another bein’ besides yaself. Bein’ kind an’ caring. All that stuff. I find ya t’ be kind an’ caring.”

“…That describes more about yourself than about me. Despite your rough exterior and distant attitude, you’re very thoughtful and considerate of those around you, myself included. You don’t like spreading this disease, and you go out of your way to wear gloves when cooking for food other than yourself, often saving yourself for last to eat.”

“Yeah, I guess I am considerate. But I do like t’ see myself as bein’ gentle, too.”

“You are gentle.” Pure smiles, “even when you are grumpy.”

“Okay, let’s not encroach on that.” Huaso gives a gentle nudge to the knight’s shoulder. “Put me down on the ground, please. Then ya could scout ahead an’ locate th’ hospital. Try not t’ alert the birds, though.”

Pure secures his hug before hopping down, gliding with his wings spread out. This time, he slows his descent in time before his feet hit the ground. He kneels down to let the miner out of his arms.

“What’s encroach?”

“To intrude upon. Like personal space, territory, rights, to name a few.”

“Oh! So… like that one time I looked over the shower stall at you?”

“Yeah, that’s one such example.”

Pure wanted to stand up and get ready to take off, look for that hospital. But with his friend’s arms around his neck, he kind of cannot do that right now.

“Why are you hugging?” he asks with a small smile.

“Why not? I’m sorry if I’m getting in the way.”

“No, it’s fine. Is it okay if I can hug you, too?”

“Sure. I ain’t stoppin’ ya.”

Huaso couldn’t resist burying his face into the other’s neck. _‘Actually, please do…’_

He feels the knight’s arms wrap around him, gently, snug, warm. Soft. Maybe Eddie is in there after all. But at the same time, maybe he doesn’t want to remember everything. He’s at peace, and Pure is just as great of a companion. Even if he can be a little dense, that's okay! At least he’s not flying blindly into a confrontation while fueled with anger.   
The thought of Pure Knight ever getting angry did cross the miner’s mind. Maybe he really doesn’t want to get on his bad side. Pure is still a dangerous weapon in his own right, even if he’s being affable, cuddly, patient…

“What’s that sound?”

“What’s what?” Huaso looks up at Pure.

“Uh… that?”

He confirms, pointing at his friend’s chest.

Oh. Huaso was so busy enjoying the hug he hadn’t realized that he was purring.

“I’m purrin’.”

“Why do you purr?”

“Because I’m happy. I don’ feel so alone, and I got over the hurdle that was hurtin’ me th’ most.”

“I noticed that. You look happy. Maybe healthy, even? You’ve eaten more lately, and you get out of bed without looking like a tired mess.”

“When yer grievin’ Pure, sometimes it’s hard t’ find reasons t’ go on. But it is part of the process when somethin’ major or someone important is ripped outta yer life. There is a sayin’; The Grass is Always Greener. An’ sometimes, ya don’ really know what it is ya have until it’s gone.”

A pause drifts between them, with neither one willing to let go of their embrace.

“I know I overheard you say that you have a death wish, even though you cannot act upon it,” Pure tightens his hug, not too much to break anything, but enough to get his point across, “I don’t want you gone. Sucré and Coach, Peace and War, Abundance and Famine, Mishca, maybe Flo will miss you. But even _I’ll_ miss you.”

Huaso grunts from the tight hug, returning it briefly.

“I… yer right.” he starts, purring again as he feels a hand rub his back, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere without ya. I ain’t gonna go places where ya can’t follow, if I can help it. An’ that goes for everyone else who might miss me.”  
He closes his eyes, seeing echoes light up in the direction from the other’s chest. Has Pure really spent enough time to consider missing him should he go? That could explain the purring, and the knight’s recent confession that even he will miss his little friend if anything happened to him.

Finally, he relents on his hug. “Alright, I’ll let ya search for th’ hospital. I’ll stay right here for when ya git back, an’ we’ll make a beeline for it on foot once ya do.”

~~

Pure not only found the hospital from a higher vantage point; he had also found a beaten trail connecting Mida’s ranch to the village. Or, rather, the town. With this established road, and a well staffed hospital, the village had undergone some renovations.

Once he gets back to his little friend, he leads him to the road and they follow it on foot. By night time, the lights in the town were on, making it easier to find a place to camp nearby. Even if the town had an inn, there is no room big enough to accommodate the knight.

And rumors of unsavory ghouls lurking in the undergrowth at night didn’t sit well. Setting up a tent on the ground was not an option. Finding a broad tree was the easy part. Finding a sturdy branch was the hard part. Setting up a campfire to cook up a meal on a branch just wasn’t on. So for dinner, Huaso had some Abaddon meat jerky, while Pure had two large apples.

With food in their bellies, and the night chill settling in, Pure rests on the branch, with his back against the trunk, taking care not to ruin his wings as usual. He sat there, happily cuddling his little friend resting against his chest.

Huaso still had to admit, his companion is nice and warm. But other than taking a chance with the town, or even barge in on Florence, should it rain tonight they have no means to shelter from it. While Huaso is used to sleeping rough, he’s not sure if he can say that Pure particularly enjoys sleeping under the stars, or in a demanding curled up position in a tent. But he has not once complained about it. Does he withhold the complaints if it means he doesn’t leave Huaso at all?

It’s still very considerate of him.

Even with the earplugs on, he can see a very faint echo coming from the purr reverberating from the knight’s chest.  
Maybe he is happy to be here.   
They’re both purring after all.

~~

“Good morning! What can we do for you… two?”

The avian secretary at the front desk trails off as she directs her gaze up at the tall knight, before back down at a sickly inhabitant.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I have an appointment with Dr. Florence at around 10 this mornin’. My name’s Huaso, an’ this here’s my friend, Pure.”

“Hello.” Pure gives a slight wave. A good thing he put his bat back into his inventory.

“Huaso, appointment with Florence at 10… ah yes, here we go!” she chirps, “Although you look incurable. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, jus’ worry ‘bout yerself in the long run, alright?”

“Ahaha… if you say so.” she says, “Take a seat in the waiting room. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Huaso wastes no time finding a seat to sit on. Pure, meanwhile, sits on the floor. His attention directed at the few toys that some of the children were playing with. They notice him, chirp in glee as they run over to check out this winged being. One or two even start climbing on him. Maybe they sense something about him that the adults don’t?  
Either way, Huaso can see the knight smile. Sometimes moving to make climbing easier.

“Jus’ don’t go plucking feathers, either of you.”

~~

Flo, true to his profession, kept up the professional front while in public. But once the three were in the consultation room, he drops his act and runs up to Huaso, hugging him tightly.

“Huaso! Good to see you again!” he exclaims, giving him a slight squeeze.

“Ah yeah… thanks, I m-missed ya too.” he grunts. Normally, close contact would be unwanted, but he did miss the medical arsonist to a fault.

As nice and clean as the floors are, Pure wasn’t sure if he should continue to sit on the carpet. Finding a seat, he sits down, happy that it can hold his weight.

“And who’s this?” Flo asks, letting his sick friend go and walking over to Pure.

“That’s Pure Knight, or Pure for short.”

“…He’s hot.”

Flo grins. His internal gaydar is probably going off on himself. “How come he follows you around? I was sure I caught sight of him following Borbo before.”

That twinge of hatred was back, Huaso could feel an eyelid twitch in the murk.

“He _was_. I think the halos was what kept ‘im under Borbo’s control, but they vanished after we kinda gave U-Gore a concussion. Since then, he’s been a good friend, followin’ me ‘round on his own volition, and keepin’ me company. I could not have been more thankful.”

“What about Eddie? Are you still looking for him?” Flo asks, perplexed. He recalls Huaso being kind of moody over the phone, as well as the few times they chatted during the search a month or so ago.

“Well… the thing is-”

“I’m Eddie.”  
Pure spoke up, keeping his face neutral. “Or, I believe Huaso when he tells me I was once Eddie. I remember nothing about his past, his connections, his friends, his family… but there have been instances where some of my involuntary actions feels as though I’ve been through the motions before. Such as looking over the shower sta-”

A clawed hand gently covers his mouth, muffling him.

“Pure, Flo doesn’ need ta know that.”

“But Huaso, I must admit; you have a cute-”

And he is muffled again. Flo chuckles.

“I guess it brings attention to the elephant to the room. Huaso, I can tell that you can no longer leave the Unload file. That sucks, because I know you love exploring the files. So there must be a reason why you came to me, other than to help me concoct a panacea for your virus.”

“Flo, had I not found peace a couple a nights back, that would’ve been the reason.” Huaso jokes, earning a small frown from Pure, “But yes, ya can already tell that I cannot leave anymore. I was wonderin’ if I could ask ya t’ tunnel in Theodore an’ Fred.”

But now that the request is out in the open, Huaso looks down with a frown of his own. Fred has already lost Eddie once before. How will he react to losing him a _second_ time?   
He hadn’t thought about that.

“May I interject, again?”

Both harbringers turn their attention to Pure.

“Eddie has two younger brothers, I recall you telling me this in one of your stories about him. I still have no recollection of those memories. So… I’m not sure if I’m ready to meet them. Can we hold off on that idea, please?”

“I guess we could, but then we will need to see when I’m available next time during after hours.” Flo chuckles. Pure sure is hot, and cute. But if he is as dangerous as the rumors go, then perhaps it’s a good thing he’s following Huaso.

“I guess we wait, then.” Huaso nods in agreement, dusting his claws off, “Flo, I’m thinkin’ about stayin’ a couple a days, but as ya can tell, there ain’t many doors Pure can squeeze through. Let alone beds that can accommodate his… height.”

“You two are more than welcome to crash at my place instead!”

Flo says with enthusiasm, rushing to his bag to fetch a spare key. “Just don’t mind the ash and the scorch marks. Also, I can see that glint in your eyes, Hua; You have a big project in mind and I know that will take you a week, tops, to get it finished in one hit.”

“Read me like a book, Flo.” Huaso chuckles, catching the spare key dropped into his open palm.

“Just remember to eat and sleep when your body needs it. I don’t want to come back home to zombie brains and a traumatized knight!”

Oh, yeah… Pure still hasn’t seen him while he is at his worst, in the empty category just yet anyway.


	5. Learning Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An obscure piece of memory returns to Pure Knight in a dream.
> 
> A week is spent on making a late birthday gift.
> 
> And the knight relearns how to read and write all over again. The damage to his memory is a lot bigger than previously imagined.

_Pure finds himself floating in a void._

_He swims forward, momentarily forgetting he had wings. After a bit of searching in the darkness, feeling anxiety building by the second, he eventually finds a ball of light._

_He reaches out to graze it with his fingers. As it did, the ball explodes, and floods his vision with a sheen of white._

_\--_

_When it dies down, Pure realizes that he stands before a pair of giant, clasped hands. He can hear talking._

_One from a being of creation._

_One from a being of destruction._

_They said that he would be getting a little brother._

_Someone who is him, but also their own individual._

_As the hands part, a small child emerges from the light, unconscious, clad in white._

_\--_

_Pure learns that this child would be simply called ‘White Batter’._

_And he was a handful._

_He was optimistic, but he was also very hungry, almost all the time._

_Pure finds himself needing to find food, at a time some guardian father figure is absent._

_As he scales and guts a fish, Pure takes note of the sleeves covering his arms._

_They are in black._

_\--_

_In situations where he should be feeling angry at, or scared for his little brother._

_Climbing into trees and refusing to get down._

_Complaining about food when he is barely capable of hunting from animals._

_Wondering why the food tasted different that night._

_And that headless figure._

_No matter how hard Pure squints, all he can see is a mess of black squiggles obscuring a white box with antennas._

_But he had no time to care about someone who is barely there for them._

_He was more concerned about his little brother._

_\--_

_He should not have gone into that basement._

_He should not have released that fuchsia creature with the many arms._

_That headless figure would be disappointed in him._

_But Pure didn’t care._

_\--_

_He would not allow it._

_If anyone is going to die a hero, it will be him._

_If anyone is going to live long enough to turn into a monster, it will be his brother._

_He would be doing this as a hero._

_After all, that’s what heroes do, right?_

_They commit an act that they deem is the right thing to do…_

_Right?_

_Tonight, he will take flight._

_The night sky shines bright, and he admires it._

_This is it. This is it._

_He is like a bird._

_Seconds before the concrete rushes up to greet him, he remembers;_

_He cannot fly._

_He cannot save himself._

**_So is this the right thing to do?!_ **

_\--_

For the first time since he could ever recall, Huaso wakes up to a scream of terror, and it is not a sound that’s leaving his throat. The cold rushes in to greet his skin, despite the pajamas he is wearing.

Oh.

Pure is sitting up straight, wings ruffled, eyes wide, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. He is panting, scared out of his wits. The motion had sent the blankets flying forward and off the end of the couch.

“Pure?”

The knight flinches, glancing down at the harbringer whom was once fast asleep by his side. His heart is racing. He feels tears bead in his eyes. Was that dream real? Why was it so lucid? Why did it beckon at his essence like a tainted past?

“Huaso…” he whimpers.

This is very much unlike him. Hearing this tone, Huaso scoots closer, hugging at an arm.

“Shhh…” he hushes gently, using a hand to rub at his back, mindful of the wings. “It was a bad dream.”

“Then why… Why did it feel so r-real?”

Pure shudders, letting the tears fall as soon as he has the other almost crushed in his embrace.

“Why, what felt so r-real?”

“A boy dressed in white… always hungry… never behaves… gutted fish… pink creature… forgot to fly…”

Oh.

That sounds like memories Eddie has. And they are not very fond ones since early childhood, or last time Huaso was able to recall.

“Pure, listen to me.”

He grunts, leaning back when the knight relents on his rigid embrace. His shoulders are going to hurt in the morning.

“Those _were_ some of Eddie’s memories. Once ya calm down, and ya feel ready to listen, let me know. I’ll explain what happened in those sequences of memories…”

He sighs as Pure finally gets a grip of himself, indicated after he heaved a shuddery exhale.

“Why… why did he jump off a building, if he couldn’t fly?”

“I dunno. All he told me is that it was rather traumatic for ‘im.”

“But why?”

“Try an’ answer that yerself.”

A moment of silence passed, Pure’s hug fully relaxing in a snug fit.

“If he didn’t, s-something bad would’ve happened to his brother…”

He gives a sniff, tightening his hug again, but only briefly.

Huaso dares not to move from where he is, feeling something damp soaking his shoulder.

It’s raining somewhere else, but they are indoors, and it’s bad luck to pop open an umbrella while under a roof.

~~

Pure did not have it in him to explore today.

But he was told that he couldn’t watch Huaso work on his little pet project as well. So today, he follows Florence to the hospital.

His little friend asked him nicely to behave, not to cause trouble, and to come straight to him or to Flo if he ever spots an impure threat in the vicinity of the avian town. Do not engage, but if the coward’s option is not available, do not use Savvy unless it’s a dire emergency.

So he sits and watches in the waiting room, visor down, seeing patients, nurses, and doctors come and go. The children were still very curious of him. They would come on over, check him out, ask him questions… it almost tickles his heart. Sometimes he would answer, sometimes he would shrug. Sometimes his response was a miffed ‘I don’t know’.

By lunch time, the nightmare that plagued his essence last night was easily put out of his mind.

~~

Huaso is good at many things in regards to machinery.

But this pet project required a steady hand in textile, some 4th wall knowledge, and some pocket magic.

He’s got the materials and the knowhow, the step by step, and the patience. But this is beginning to baffle his single living neuron.  
He isn’t sure if he can pull this off alone.

…But he has to! It has to be a nice surprise for Pure when he’s all finished within the span of a week. And when he’s all done, he has to get furniture to fit it all in. Making sure he got the measurements, his renewed vigor is found, and he resumes the stitch work.

“What are you doing?”

Huaso jumps, looking behind him.

It’s one of the avians, this one looking very much like a raven.

“A complicated task involvin’ some textiles, limitless knowledge, an’ some pocket magic.” Huaso replies. He sighs, looking at the stitch work.

“That’s… nice, I suppose. I don’t know about the other two, but I do know about stitching. Would you like some help?”

“Thanks fer the offer stranger, but I don’ even know yer name.”

“Molly.” the raven answers with a smile, “I like to collect things of a peculiar oddity. Who are you?”

“Name’s Huaso. Ex-miner from a file that’s long since been gone.” he nods, “Nice to meet ya, Molly.”

After some chit chat, the two acquaintances get to work stitching the fabric together. Molly quickly noted that some of the material is almost otherworldly. When she asks about it, Huaso shrugs and says he got it from a merchant friend of his. She then asks if there are any scrap patches of it, she could take some home once they are done with the stitch work.

There’s no harm in that, he figures. The raven avian probably likes to collect things besides credits. She did ask why the tent is so big for someone as small as the harbringer himself. He goes on to explain that he’s in town, with a large friend of his. And that the two of them are also friends with Florence, the head doctor of the hospital. He also asks her not to tell his large friend about this tent. Molly can’t miss him; he’s twice the miner’s size, in pale armor, has a vacant expression but the vocal curiosity of a child. But if left unchecked, he can also be dangerous.

By sunset the first leg of Huaso’s pet project is done. He bids Molly goodnight, and thanks her for the help.

As promised, she’s allowed to walk away with a spare scrap of the otherworldly material. No sound is capable of passing through it, she notes.

~~

It took extra effort to hide this project from Pure. Each, and every, day.

Pure thought nothing about it, going about his day exploring the town, or following Florence to work. While no new nightmares tormented his sleep, the very first still lingered on the back of his head. How is he supposed to feel? Angry? Sorry? Guilt?  
He can’t be sure…

Was it easier to embrace the empty-headed disposition that he was once in? Maybe.

Does this mean he’s running from the truth? Probably.

Does he really want to know more about Eddie’s past?

…Yes. But where should he start looking?

On the sixth day in the town of the birds, Pure follows Flo to the hospital again. Instead of sitting around in the waiting room, he is welcomed to come into the consultation room, take a seat away from the desk, and chill. Flo made it clear that anything that is said in here does not leave the room.

So, in other words, Pure should tune out, say nothing, ask nothing, and repeat nothing.

He can do that.

There are many posters for him to look at anyway. Including anatomy of the avians, of the Elsens (he’s pretty sure that’s what Huaso and Flo are), of some ghouls… and he just now realized that he cannot read. None of the tiny text scribbles made any sense.  
The Elsen anatomy of sulfuric glands does get his attention. Pure stands closer to it, seeing the same scribbles in boxes, with a line leading from the box to a portion of the body. Notably, to the wrists, the neck, the eyes, and the ears.

Huaso has claws on his hands. His throat doesn’t look to be in good shape. And he wears goggles. Pure also recounts the two times he has seen Huaso without those goggles; blood leaks from his eyes.

Did something happen to Huaso? He did say he is a burnt, a Valzong, to be exact. What is that?

Right on cue, the door opens, and Florence returns with his lunch. He sees the knight taking a close look at the Elsen anatomy poster. “Oh, interested in the sulfuric glands?” he asks.

Pure looks at the doctor and nods.

“You can talk. It’s just us, and I’m on my lunch break.”

“I don’t get what’s written on it. I know it’s ‘words’, but none of it made any sense.”

Did the memory wipe Huaso mentioned also take away Pure’s capacity to read?

“Oh, I can read it out to you, if you like! You should also ask Huaso, he’s a burnt. He’ll understand all this more better than me.”

“I… thought so.” Pure frowns, getting the gears to turn. He takes a step back, listening intently as Florence reads out each box full of text that he points at. For Elsen to burn out due to stress, or other conflicting factors, doesn’t sound like fun. Pure feels glad that he’s not an Elsen himself, even though not a lot of things can pressure him.

~~

That day, Pure returns with Florence to his home, with a small collection of children’s books, some lined paper and a pencil. When Huaso gets the rundown as to why the knight was in possession of them in the first place, he agrees to help his tall friend relearn how to read and write.

After dinner, Flo took to washing the dishes, while Huaso got Pure to repeat the alphabet, as well as write each letter. Both caps, and lowercase. Honestly, there was no need to repeat this. The purifier is indeed a quick learner.

Although spelling doesn’t seem to be an important thing to learn right now. As soon as Pure understands the basics of the alphabet, Flo takes over and offers to read some of the children’s books. Which quickly led to short novels, and finally a good non-fictional book, likely a biography of some inhabitant that first arrived in the Unload file.

By bedtime, Pure really wanted to read a dictionary. But after hearing Huaso’s plight to make sure said dictionary had absolutely no obscene words in it, Flo gives a nervous laugh and promises he will find the dictionary that will match the criteria tomorrow afternoon. Even if he has to stop by the town’s library on the way home from work.

So, for now, Pure’s request to read a dictionary is denied.

~~

“Huaso?”

Getting to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow is pointless. He should have known by now, especially if Pure is on a metaphorical rampage for knowledge. What does he want now?

“Yeah, buddy?”

“I saw a poster in Flo’s office today. It was…” he pauses, “An ann-ah-tom-mee… of an Elsen. Flo also said something about sul-furr-ick glands. And that you’re a burnt, so you might be able to explain it more.”

“When I’m done explainin’, will it be the last thing ya wanna ask until dawn?” Huaso asks, fighting down a yawn as he blinks at the other in the murk. He can see Pure nod at this.

He rolls over, facing the other that he’s sharing the large bed with. He began with what Pure already knows from Florence reading back to him from the poster, the knight nodding now and then. Knowing damn well that he wants to know why Huaso didn’t burn in the same manner as the other nerds, he then goes on to explain that the virus he carries triggered a different reaction. It wasn’t stress related, the virus turned the acids from working against him as intended, to working with him; but not without killing him first. The glands in his throat are the reason why his blood is poisonous, and sometimes does not clot. The glands in his eyes are the reason why he sheds bloody tears, and thus he needs to wear something to contain the liquid. The glands in his ears are the reason why he is able to echo-locate.

It was so cool, but also melancholic and haunting. Pure couldn’t help but hug his little friend close once he was done explaining it to him, purring quietly.

Huaso hugs back, enjoying the warm and soft embrace.

He doesn’t need pity; he hates it. Just as much as how Eddie hates being pitied over a stupid act that ended his life, and that nobody needs to be sorry as it’s nobody’s fault but his own.

~~

By the dusk of the seventh day, Pure came back with Florence to a peculiar sight.

Huaso seems proud of himself, relaxing in a chair and enjoying a drink, but it’s what stood erect behind him that was new. On the outside it seemed like a brand new, regular outfitter-styled tent, made with fabric of a dark forest green in color, and a small cast iron chimney poking out of one side near the back. The exterior looks waterproof, and the framework looks sturdy, suitable for extreme weather gusts. And furthermore, it is just tall enough for Pure to step through without needing to duck too low that he has to crawl in through the entryway. Or at least from his observation.

“About time ya got back. I was countin’ down the minutes as to when ya would return from the hospital.”

“What is that?” Pure asks, pointing at the contraption.

“Our new tent. I know, the outside ain’t all that much t’ write home about, but jus’ wait until ya check the inside.”

That is the incentive he needs to spark his curiosity.

Pure approaches the tent, pulls up the zip, and sticks his head inside. His wings give a shudder as he tries to register the sight.

Inside it is _roomy_ , a whole lot more so than what it had on display on the outside, with the interior walls being many tapestries of fabric, and the floor, with the exceptions of a few rugs, being a deep purple, reminiscent of the the smoke mines Huaso has talked about. The iron lamp hanging from the ceiling near the center illuminates most of the interior. Pure takes another step inside, able to stand comfortably at his full height indoors, for the first time. And even then, his head, or helmet wouldn’t reach the canopy of the roof.

An iron heater sat in the middle. There was a large bathtub off to the left, as well as bathroom needs. Where or how the hot or cold water flows in, he will have to ask later. To the right is the kitchen and dining. And up to the back was a large bed. Larger than a King-Size.  
Pure _had_ to try the bed, taking his helmet and shoes off, setting his bat aside before flopping onto it, giving a content groan as the bed not only manages to support his weight, but also feels remarkably soft. How did Huaso put all of this together?

“Ya like that?” Huaso asks with a chuckle, “It wasn’t easy, but it’s the best that I could do t’ give ya all the room you ever need on the road. Happy Belated Birthday, Pure.”

“Huaso, what are you on about…?” Flo begins to ask, but stalls as he steps inside with a gasp himself. He takes a few more steps in. “Did you use a portion of your pocket to make this possible?”

“Indeed I did Flo, with the additional help of soundproofed pocket weaver fabric. Very hard stuff t’ come by. I can’ leave the Unload File, so I mays well use a bit of what’s essentially deadweight.” Huaso shrugs.

“Well, as long as it doesn’t cause long term damage to your psyche, Hua. You make an appointment with me if it does, you hear?”

“Flo, ya talkin’ ta someone who _used_ their pocket camp as a home whenever Eddie was over, back when I had a home on my file, in the mines, an’ didn’ fancy bein’ caught by my boss.”

“Huaso, please come over and try the bed!” Pure exclaimed, with the intent to get his friend’s attention. He was sitting there, with a big grin on his face. Is this a late birthday present? Guess it is, and nobody has given him a gift _this_ big before! In both size, and surprise.

Huaso gives a chuckle, indulging the knight’s request, and soon flops onto the bed himself with a content sigh. No more curling up on the floor of the tent with a blanket too small for their combined mass.

He is immediately cuddled by the larger.

“Is Flo correct? Did you do all of this for me?”

“For you, yes. But for us as well. Unless ya want the tent all to yerself.”

“No, it wouldn’t feel right if I took it all by myself.” he purrs, giving his friend a nuzzle.

Flo smiles, watching the two, knowing damn well that an affectionate fire has lit up in his heart. These two fools just don’t know it yet, do they? Pure might remember next to nothing, and is otherwise emotionally disconnected from his past, but it’s right there in the open for him to observe. Flo’s gaydar is going off the spritz. And while it’s platonic, at this rate, it might evolve to become something more than that.  
Both are learning how to love anew.

~~

Admittedly, Pure still wasn’t ready to face Eddie’s younger brothers. But with the project done, Huaso didn’t see the need to stick around for longer than two weeks. After a tearful goodbye with Flo, the two were on the road again.

They were going everywhere and nowhere. If it wasn’t for the souls of the past and present staking their claim and keeping their portion of their land static, then the Unload really is a junkyard. Huaso continues to lead the way, one hand held in Pure’s own. He continues to do his best explaining things to him where a dictionary fell short.

Just now, something catches Pure’s attention. He stops, and points. “Huaso?”

“Hm?”

There, up ahead on a bleached road, stands a figure. Their back turned to them. But the antennas; there is no mistaking it. The bile of hatred threatens to spill over as his gut-rot sensation is confirmed, once the figure turns around.

A blue visor with black voids for eyes.

A standard Elsen uniform from the neck down.

A mechanical wheeze.

It took every ounce of his neurons, dead _and_ alive, to restrain himself from charging forward with a yell of fury. Sensing the building hostility in his friend’s stance, Pure grabs his bat with a red glare at the stranger. He stops when a clawed hand is held out before him by Huaso.

“Stand down, Pure. This is between me and _this_ **_sonofabitch_**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a nice little cliffhanger for you to hang onto. ♡


	6. For What It Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a long time coming. Unfortunately, Huaso doesn't get a chance to catch his stamina.
> 
> And it wasn't long before the last band-aid of grief was ripped off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's a short chapter.
> 
> Double sorry if Lenny seems out of character in places.
> 
> Not sorry about the Pictures Taken before the Disaster. Enjoy!

It appears as though Huaso cannot be reasoned with.

Fine.

Let him have his tantrum. He can wait.

If there’s one thing death and rebirth brings, it’s a full well of stamina.

Stamina that this stubborn zombie does not have in the long run.

Sooner or later, he was going to slip up.

And _then_ , he would counter.

He uses the hilt of his sword to bash the weak points in the burnt claws, causing them to shatter without bringing harm to the bringer of pestilence. It did the job to completely disable any exclusive Savvy that he himself could not replicate.

The blade cut through the handle of his trusty shovel, pickaxe, and left his wrench out of shape. This put all of his tools out of commission.

Resorting to using his bare hands instead, all it took was a swing-and-miss one too many before Huaso couldn’t keep up anymore.

Borbo gives one simple shove, before holding the tip of his trusty CYMK sword still to the other’s throat.

Pure, seeing the danger his friend is in, spreads his wings, ready to launch himself into the fray.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mental defect,” Borbo chimes, using his free hand to point directly at the knight, “I am this close to granting him his death wish. You come any closer, and I will sever his spine from his brain!”

The knight showed no intention to listen to his creator, but he stops when he hears his friend rasp out.

“Pure… please… _please stand down._ Do as he s-says… please…”

“Huaso…”

Pure did not want to remain on standby anymore. _But he must._ Huaso begging him to stay on hold, despite the situation he is in. He reluctantly relaxes his stance, but the eerie red glow from the holes in his visor remains to be seen.  
He feels angry that he is powerless to intervene.

“Well… what are y-ya waiting for?” Huaso pants.

Surely, this is it.

This is it.

His body cannot hope to keep up the fight anymore. Why isn’t this _idiot_ acting upon his threat?

“Are you done yet? Because what I’ve been waiting for is to get your attention.”

At this comment, the helmeted man stands up straight, and flings his CYMK sword off to the side, the blade embedding itself to the hilt in the trunk of a bleached tree. “And now that I _have_ your attention, I think it’s time we were due for a nice, long, heart to he--”

**_CRACK!!!_ **

The resounding crunch came from a brick, impacting on the ex-Death’s neck, snapping it and killing him instantly.

Huaso is still panting, sitting up. Pure was by his side in an instant, kneeling by him, checking if his friend is okay.

That had to be the most _cathartic_ action he has taken against Borbo since this whole conflict started.

“So _that’s_ how you were able to spot me as trouble from a mile away? I should have guessed~”

Huaso gave a sneer at the tone, but the fight has left him feeling too drained. Echoes told him that Pure’s wings gave a shudder, wanting to resume the fight in his steed, but a bare hand resting over the knight’s own told him to do otherwise.

“Fine, what do _you_ want?”

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me; a nice, long, heart to heart chat. It’s been a while since we caught up with each other.”

~~

“I have no idea how much Eddie told you about the story of Boxedman and his deal with the ex-bringer of Death. Or maybe he was too ashamed or grief stricken to give the deets. But let me lay out the blueprint so that your fatigued little brainrot can process it;  
“Boxedman had a box for a head because he and his girlfriend were caught in an accident. Tragic, wasn’t it? At the time, he only had Eddie to raise; and if he was out of the picture, Eddie would be left to fend for his little lonesome self. But the thing is, Eddie was already bound to serve as one half of a tulpa. You would know him as The Batter, or to be a little more specific; Theodore.  
“I gave Boxedman that second try at life, on the binding contract that whomever of the two brothers died, their soul would be mine to do as I please, and that soul had to come to me willingly. But what that soul did between then and now would have completely been beyond my control. This meant he was free to be livid with his ever hungry monstrous brother, he was free to go file diving just to snowball that credit, he was free to run into you and fall in love, to show you his family and a round trip through heaven, and to follow you through your first trip into the Unload. He was free to make friends with the other harbringers whom were the best of their Grade that reside in the Unload.  
“That last one might have been the mistake that was easily exploited. You were there, when I employed Boxedman, who made full use of the positive’s capacity to enter full mode, lure him out of the comfort of his home on a very special day, and send him on a wild goose chase to suppress it before it began to leak into the other files.”

“You fuckin’ gutless mons-”

“ _Let me finish._ ” Borbo holds up a hand, waiting for the zombie to give an angry huff before settling.  
“I don’t know who told you about my plans to bring about the end, but if I have to guess, it’s because you have access to something I relinquished when I gave up my job as Death. And whoever told you set your virus driven brain into motion, to climb the bark of the tree like an ant on cordyceps, and bury your mandibles into the stem of the leaf. Or, to be a little accurate; put yourself between this big guy and the sadistic god.  
“And boy howdy! Did that little stunt of yours work! I don’t know how you did it. My Pure Knight took orders; Not from me, but from you. He listened to your plight, whether it was vocal or not, and instead of completing his mission _anyway_ he gave U-Gore the god-tier version of a spanking. I doubt the sadist learned his lesson, because he has the thinking capacity of an edgy 14 year old. And you know teens; they’re rebellious. They’re not going to listen! Authority means nothing to a teen, no less to a _god_. He has you both trapped in here. With me. With everyone else who thought it was a good idea to stake their claim in this dump.”

 _‘Cecilma.’_ That was the first name to cross Huaso’s thoughts.  
He was the guy who, alongside Fred, alerted him of Eddie’s sudden disappearance during one day at construction work. He is the guy beyond the curtain of limited reality, beyond the external knowledge. Even Pestilence himself knew next to nothing, other than the fact that he’s a pretty cool guy, and had unexpectedly shown up on Ballman’s doorstep once upon a time.

By giving up his job as Death, Borbo didn’t see it coming from the 4th wall. Hell, Huaso isn’t sure if Borbo _knew_ about Cecilma, even before the big quit.

“I’m aware that you got hurt in the crossfire, but it’s not that I don’t care. If you had remained blissfully oblivious of my plans, you would have had your death wish by now.”

“But what ‘bout all the others? What about the lives of innumerous people who would wanna live?”

Bobo scoffs at the faux concern. “What about them? As far as you should be concerned, close friends aside, they’re nothing but complete strangers. ‘Nerds’, as you often call them. This whole mess of suffering could have been snuffed out for everyone. The vicious cycle of death and rebirth would come to a close.”

“…Then where were you?”

Huaso’s chin was dipped enough for his helmet to hide his goggles, his tone coming off as though he’s been betrayed.

“I’m sorry, did you say something? Speak up, pestilence-”

“ _Where_ **_the fuck_ ** _were you when I needed you most?!_ ”

The guttural snarl from the zombie snaps Borbo out of his semi-apathetic trance. He blinks. He takes a moment to process the tone, and _perhaps_ , for half a second, he understood the plight.

“You died, two days after I quit my job. By the time a new Death was selected, your essence was already property of Pestilence, as indicated by the first time your brain committed cytopathic reanimation.”

Huaso couldn’t believe it. Ill timing, and an elaborate plan that was foiled from the inside out. But whether he was alerted about The End of Everything or not, the output would have been the same, even in the ticking final moments; Eddie is gone. He broke his promise, against his will, to never leave anyone behind.  
He jumps a little as he feels a hand on his back. He somberly glances at Pure, who looked at him with an almost neutral expression, along with an undertone of concern.

“Well, he’s useless to me now.” Borbo says, rolling his wrist while gesturing to Pure, “Again, I’m sorry that you got caught in the crossfire. I’m aware that you will never forgive me. I don’t expect you to, nor do I care. But at least take my atonement for what it is like a grown man. As compensation, I relinquish Pure Knight into your custody. Although you would already know this; the three rainbow halos he was adorned with are gone, have been since you two walked away from the sadist who was left to seeing stars after a knockout.”

“You must be batshit insane to think he ain’t a person.”

“But of course he’s not! He’s a weapon, with next to no independent thought!”

“Think again, _idiot_.” Huaso spat, “Ya must be gettin’ old. Old, an’ kinda sad. Ya never fooled me before, an’ y’ain’t foolin’ me now. Pure has had time to learn what he knows to this day. He ain’t as thick in the head as he was. _He_ can do _whatever_ he wants; it ain’t up ta me t’ decide what he should do from now. Let ‘im choose for himself.”

At this, the both of them glance at Pure. He looks up from Huaso, to Borbo, to Huaso again. He can do whatever he wants? He can choose what he wants to do? The answer is obvious as his gaze lands on Huaso again. He would be breaking his promise if he walks away. Not only that, he would feel hollow, just like he did whenever he had time to think for himself early into this new life of his. With a determined scowl, he nods at the engineer.

“…I want to continue travelling with you.”

“Well, that settles that.”  
Borbo stands from his seat on the log, dusting his hands off. “You’re now the proud owne- I mean friend of a catastrophic weapon, who may or may not have been your boyfriend. You take care of him well, and he’ll take care of you. But you already know this, don’t you? That’s been the gist of this song and dance since the start, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Piss off, before I decide t’ let Pure add another to yer track record of deaths, for the road.”

“Oh please, he can’t do much worse than what that anglerfish mersen freak did to me.” he chortled.

Huaso heaves a sigh, watching the man he hated most simply walk away, abscond from his job to mind the creation. He thought he could find more for his peace of mind. All he found was a load of hot air that needed to be let out, and he now feels painfully deflated.

“Oh, by the way!” Borbo stops, glancing back at them with a grinning expression in his visor, “Pure Knight, can you be a dear and ask your friend what the word ‘Fuck’ means?!”

A parting shot.

“ _Borbo what the fuck?!?_ ” Huaso wheezes, watching Borbo teleport to only Cecilma knows where.

Pure blinks, letting the request register.

“What’s a ‘fuck’?”

~~

“No, please tell me. I’m serious. What is ‘fuck’?”

Pure has been pestering him since they resume hitting the road. Huaso gives an angry eye roll under the goggles.

“It’s a really offensive word, Pure. And ya would do well ta drop it an’ never say it again.”

“But it’s just the two of us. And I have heard you say it before. Please, tell me.”

Huaso comes to an abrupt stop in his walk, turning on his heel to glare up at the knight.

“Ya wanna know? Fine. Pick a spot an’ pitch the tent. We ain’t gonna fuckin’ eat until it’s all out on the fuckin’ table.”

“You’re saying it again. Does it, like, add emphasis to something?”

“ _For fuck’s sake, quit wastin’ my fuckin’ time with ya shitty pesterin’ an’ pitch the motherfuckin’ tent!_ ”

Wow.

More obtuse words.

Pure pouts. He might not have fun wrangling them out of Huaso.

~~

He takes that back. This is a lot of fun after all!

The word ‘fuck’ is deemed offensive because it’s a blatant barbaric way to say ‘having sexual intercourse with someone’. It’s also slang for saying that someone messed something up.

Huaso begrudgingly gives explanation to the other expletives, but he couldn’t tell what is worse; the blush on Pure’s face from initially hearing the definition of each explicit word, to the shock value wearing off as the knight quickly starts accommodating these words into his vocabulary, as though all of that never offended him in the first place.  
Borbo’s parting shot was like ripping off a super adhesive band-aid; skin, hair and all. There is no way he is going to put a lid on it now. He hasn’t stopped swearing, and Pure sounds like he’s having too much fun tossing in ‘that f word’ for emphasis or a just-because in the conversations going forward.

_‘Lenore, you motherfuckin’ cuntflier from beyond the 4th wall, why did you not put me out of my misery when you had the fucking chance?’_


	7. Shattering the Perceived Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huaso wasn't done healing properly it seems.  
> Let's get it right this time, yeah?
> 
> After so long, the radio silence is broken, but only in the absence of the knight.

Huaso didn’t know what to think.

Since that confrontation, just as he thought he could relax from letting all of that pent up vitriol escape from him in the form of attacking Borbo on sight, he was now left with empty thoughts, empty feelings, and a mind full of hot bees yelling at one another.

He was not going to be able to sleep tonight.

He wanted to do something, to occupy his hands, his arms, his brain. Anything. Anything but go to bed. A rare yearning to go back to work. Maybe all of this could have been avoided if he had not befriended Eddie.

But it was Eddie who befriended him, coaxed him out of his shell, eased him away from the monotony that Huaso now craves to return to.

He looks at his hands.

Borbo had found weak points in the cast claws and shattered the hardened sugar off of them.

He looks at Pure, who was sleeping soundly on the large bed. The bed that he brought from Molly after taking a look through the raven’s shop of curiosities. How much does Pure remember now, if at all?

Pure gives a subtle flinch when he feels an unfamiliar hand rest on his shoulder. Stifling a yawn, and his wings giving a twitch, he opens his eyes and carefully rolls onto his back.  
Oh, yeah. That’s right. The helmeted man did something to remove Huaso’s claws. Admittedly, he misses its rough texture on his skin, easily felt through the cloth of his clothes. But at the same time, he almost enjoys the soft touch.

The two quietly watch each other, but it is clear that one of them had to break the ice.

“Huaso?”

“I’m sorry… did I wake ya?”

“Yeah, but…” he gives a stretch, arching his back as his wings give another shudder along with it, “Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t in deep sleep yet.”

When Huaso didn’t respond, the knight begins to show signs of worry.

“Is something fuckin’ bothering you?”

“…Y-Yes.”

Huaso doesn’t want to lie. He continues to look at his hands, unaware of Pure soon doing the same thing after following the hidden gaze. “Pure, I-I dunno what t’ do…”

“I’m going to tell you what you’ve been telling me for as long as we’ve been travelling together; you do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Pure, please-”

“And don’t fuckin’ start with the reprimands. I’m being fuckin’ serious here.”

“Pure-!”

“No, I fuckin’ mean it-!”

“ _Fuckin’ Stop!_ ”

Huaso barks, letting that slip as he felt a contraction of dead cells clamping down on the one living neuron. His hands move to grasp clumps of white hair, hissing at himself for being so fucking stupid.  
He stops when the other’s hands grasps his wrists.

“Tell me; what is it that you want to do?”

“I-I… ah…”  
Huaso stutters, slowly lowering his hands back onto his lap, trying to get the hissing in his ears to stop. “I-I wanna listen to my e-essence.”

“And what is it saying?”

“It says…” He gives a sigh, closing his eyes. His spine feels so rigid. He’s not sure if it’s the right thing to confess; to someone who _is_ Eddie, but at the same time, _is not_.

“It says, ‘let that love grow’. B-But…”

“But?”

“Pure, I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of openin’ my Goddamn heart again. I’ve already lost Eddie. A-And I fear if I listen to my essence once more, I might wind up losin’ you, too!”

So this is why Huaso was hurting so deeply at the start of their travels together. He felt betrayed, abandoned, alone, and has been wading through the mist until he could find another anchor. Another friend. Because without that anchor, Huaso will…  
The knight stops that train of thought. Going down the same rails as the iteration in his past life is nothing but poison to his essence.

“Loss is inevitable…” Pure begins, pulling the distraught harbringer into an embrace, “I’m beginning to understand why it’s been plaguing your thoughts.” He feels the other return this hug, tightly, clinging, desperate. He nuzzles into the white hair of his friend. This is heartbreaking. It’s something real deep that his little friend is admitting to.  
“I guess it’s too late to make up for anything on behalf of Eddie, but I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

“How can ya be s-so sure of yer words?”

The scent of salt wasn’t missed this time.

“Not sure if I was capable of doing so earlier, but… have _I_ ever lied to you yet?”

“I… ah guess not.”

Huaso could feel a hand rub circles on his back, and he gradually starts calming down.

The last half a day has taken its toll on him, and he just feels about ready to return to nothing and disintegrate. He feels spent. He feels so exhausted. And he shouldn’t have woken Pure up to this hot salty mess. But at least now it’s out in the open. Just like he was to Eddie earlier in life; Pure offered an ear to listen, and a shoulder to cry on. And he bore no judgement.

“Hey, think you’ll listen to your essence now?”

“I dunno, Pure.” he sighs, shaking. The blood clots are back, but he just doesn’t have it in him to wash out his goggles right now.  
What he does have the energy for is to lean back a little from the hug, and direct his eyes up to the other’s face. Each time something major comes crashing into these two, Pure just happens to show a little more emotion. Or maybe it’s his fatigued zombie brains playing tricks on him again.

Gods… when was the last time Huaso called his mind out for what it is and blamed it on that?

“Will ya f-forgive me for what I’m about ta do, Pure?”

“Forgiven in advance.” he replies, keeping his tone calm and quiet.

“Then please, close yer eyes.”

A little perplexed at the request, Pure closes his eyes without further questions.

He can feel a soft hand on the side of his face, briefly remembering that Huaso lost the sugar covering his arms today. It is so soft, subtle. He enjoys the touch very much, he almost wants to purr.

Just as that desire crosses his mind, he can feel a pair of lips press against his own. He is taken aback by this; he didn’t jump, or flinch as hard as he thought he should, but he soon presses into it. Somehow, he knew deep down that this feels right. Even if Huaso thinks it feels wrong, misplaced, or scared of losing something akin to this all over again.

When the kiss broke, Pure smiles, opening his eyes slowly. His little friend’s blush is rather adorable, worthwhile even.

“Come on, you’ve had a long day. And I’m fuckin’ tired.”

~~

When morning comes, the interior of the pocket woven tent reflects this when the tapestries on one side glow, as though the sun was shining through poorly managed curtains.

Pure laid flat on his back, hogging the bed, with his little friend cuddling up to one side. As the dream ends and his eyelids give a twitch, a smile found a way onto his lips as well. Huaso poured his darkest fears out to him last night, but other than the stress Borbo inflicted on them both prior, he really doesn’t have anything to worry about.

It was all stupid, really.

Perhaps it was him having the backlog memory of a baby, or his really dense disposition, or his meager vocabulary that made Huaso view the knight as someone innocent, or that the puppeteer’s strings that tethered him to Borbo were blatantly cut. But despite this perceived clean slate he is aware that he’s far from it.  
Granted, Borbo gave him instructions to do it, but Pure was the one that rendered Cribeat into a smoldering ruin, along with inadvertently wiping out an entire ecosystem of oceanic plastic dwellers, sans deep abyss dwellers, and a species of amber worms within a bleached bayside town on the other side of that ocean. He also purified four of his targets, whom he had called ‘the sinners that he saw’, while stating that he’s technically a hero.

Huaso has said to him that a real hero acts upon doing the right thing, even if it means breaking established rules. Would he have not been a hero if he chose to ignore Huaso’s plea to stand down, and go on the attack against Borbo anyway? Obeying in that instant, despite the helplessness of it all, had been the right course of action; Borbo disarmed himself, as promised. Even if he left himself open to a cheap blow to the neck.

He is not a coward, a serial killer, a war criminal, as well as no longer a failure.

He can add ‘no longer innocent’ to his list of things that he once was.  
He killed a cat.   
He took out Cribeat.   
He purified a group supporting one soul’s quest to get home.   
He slugged a God into a coma rather than kill him, while subverting Borbo’s orders to erase the meaning of existence as any one individual would know it.   
And, in a past life that he cannot remember, he abandoned his loved ones, while in turn becoming the source of pain and betrayal to his little friend.   
And it certainly doesn’t help that he shamelessly looked at his friend over the shower stall.

Huaso doesn’t need to preserve the knight’s perceived innocence, not anymore. He has technically broken that hurdle in two from the get-go.

Pure smiles again, glancing at the sleeping harbringer. That kiss has been on his mind for a while, and he wonders if he should return it. He rolls onto a side, half curling up while doing so, facing the other, as his arms carefully scoot him closer. He did not want to add ‘disrupting a harbringer’s sleep in that isn’t a good morning’s kiss’ on the list of things he has done wrong.

How does kissing go again? He saw it in his dreams last night, but he didn’t see the one before they went to sleep because Huaso asked him nicely to close his eyes. It went like… an intimate contact of their lips?

Pure leans close, and brushes the other’s mouth timidly with his own.

Huaso felt that. He felt that shortly after he was eased out of his dream as someone moved him from his warm spot. His obscured eyelids twitch, a sleepy hum escaping through his nose as he instinctively tries to kiss back. He moves a hand, resting it on the side of the kisser’s face, which he is then able to identify that it’s Pure. He gives into another, happier hum as it continues, his hand sliding up into the other’s hair and feeling the locks filter between his fingers, especially while the burnt sugar is absent.

When it ends by Pure pulling away slowly, the harbringer opens his eyes. Damn, he still feels drained, but it’s not as bad as the hollowed out sensation that he felt last night. He will have the energy to wash out the saline induced clots in his goggles, make breakfast, drink lots of water seeing as that warning headache is thumping his frontal lobe again, before finally getting ready to tackle the day.

But first; to address the lovable teddy bear that dared kiss him.

“Mornin’. Am I the sleepin’ beauty this time?”

Huaso’s voice sounds hoarse. He definitely needs a drink before they even think about packing up the tent.

“More like, sleeping cutie.” Pure purrs. He’s got a good feeling that, this time, his little friend has properly healed, rather than stitch up an open wound with the cheapest thread of lies and bandages of omission.

“Do you feel better?” Pure asks, his tone gentle and curious. A small part of him doesn’t want to leave the bed, either because he still feels tired, a little lazy, or hasn’t had the time to fight ghouls lately. He and his little friend have been avoiding them for one reason or another, but today feels promising.

“Much more than yesterday, friend.”

Huaso grunts as he sits up and stretches. Not only does he feel thirsty, but famished for the first time in ages. It’s time for a big, proper, hearty breakfast.

~~

There’s a term for those who find a piece of land to call home in the Unloading File; staking a claim.

To the purifying knight, it isn’t land. It’s someone who, though he has a strong soul, went through Sheol and back and came back worse for wear. And if someone doesn’t stake a claim on this soul, he might disappear, along with all the redundant data that keeps coming and going.

Pure was going to stake his claim with a promise; he is not going anywhere. Not unless Huaso tells him to.

And Huaso deeply believes that.

Now it’s a matter of time before the engineer looks for a place and stake a claim himself. He doesn’t know where to start, which is the current problem for him.

Once breakfast was made and consumed, a decent bath, and picking a day to do the laundry, it was time to pack up the tent and hit the road again.

As long as there is no static land for miles around, Pure could go all out against the ghouls, spectres, volatile fauna, and menacing adversaries. The overwhelming surge of purifying energy, especially when it wasn’t directed at Huaso, had very little to no effect on him. There were no signs of side effects either, but Pure always made sure to check after each battle.

And when they weren’t taking on adversaries, they would be walking along, no set path to follow, talking and laughing and sometimes reminiscing. Every now and then, Pure would still ask what a word means, and Huaso would happily refine its definition.  
Pure still wasn’t feeling ready to meet Eddie’s younger brothers, and he’s asked his friend not to call them up just yet. But the radio silence must be leaving them worried regardless. Another thing to cross the knight’s mind was that weird promise of going to the moon. He still doesn’t trust himself enough to carry Huaso over there and back on his wings alone. And the rocket that he spent repairing was torn to shreds in a burst of anger so early in their travels.

~~

“Hey, when will we take a rocket to the moon?” Pure asks, smiling since Huaso is sitting on one of his shoulders as they walk along.

“You remember that? When I have th’ time and resources t’ build a rocket ship. One that can accommodate yer height. But to do that, I need a place that I can comfortably settle down an’ work.”

“Stake a claim, in other words?”

“More or less. Even though I’m jus’ happy t’ travel with ya endlessly, I will admit; bein’ an Elsen does mean I’ll git an itch ta work.” Huaso glances at his large friend, smiling. “An’ ta do that, in a case scenario where I desire t’ make big projects, I need a work bench.”

“You made the tent for us, and you even borrowed someone’s work bench before we had that appointment with Flo.” Pure chuckles. His friend is so cute on his shoulder, it’s enough to make him wear a light speckled blush on his cheeks.

“What else have you made?”

“I helped Omega construct an amusement park in Heaven once. It was a big project, and Eddie was there ta help. Fun times…”

“Knowing Eddie… how many times did he fuck it up?”

“About twice, or three times. But nothin’ serious that would’ve set progress back a week or so.”  
Huaso gave a wistful sigh. “We can’ leave the Unloadin’ File, so I really can’ show ya.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that I remain trapped here.” Pure laments, gaze towards the ground. “If I have the potential to kill a fuckin’ god and end universes, I’d hate to see what my power can do beyond Unload. But you… you don’t deserve to be stuck in here.”

“Yeah, I know. But ya also said you wouldn’t leave me. And, well… I feel obligated t’ show ya that same kindness an’ dedication in return. So even if I _could_ leave, I ain’t leavin’ ya. Not even f’ a few days.”

“…Not even for a few hours so you could rush to Heaven, take a few photos, and show them to me?”

Pure’s tone sounded… hopeful? There’s probably some wax build up in Huaso’s ears that needs cleaning… should have asked Flo about that.

“Okay, that I can do. Actually, I think I can do one better…”

He pulls out his phone.

“Who are you going to call?” Pure’s tone was now suspicious as he eyed the phone.

“Omega. I jus’ remembered that he ain’t called the ‘High Speed Photography Doctor’ f’ no reason.”

~~

Not even an hour since calling, and something flies overhead in blinding speed, dropping a cylinder parcel.

Pure reaches up with his free hand and catches it, perplexed. “Is this for us?”

“I believe so. We’ll open ‘er up once ya call th’ shot ta set up camp.”

“It feels light. Does it have photos?”

Huaso nods with a grunt, “An’ more.”

Putting the parcel away for now, Pure continues onward. He almost wants to call it a day and set up camp now, but there’s still plenty of daylight hours left.

“I wonder how Sucré is doing.”

“Me too. Hope she hasn’ ran into Meat Knight yet.”

“Why Meat Knight?”

Huaso gives a hum as he thinks. “I might’ve said it before, but Meat Knight was once an iteration of Sucré. If those two cross paths, a fight is unavoidable. An’ well, see, this is when things might git tricky. The merchant only has one life. Meat Knight will keep respawnin’ so long as their crystal is intact. If she beats them, she might prove herself worthy of a replacement to UG, in a way I s’pose.  
“But if she loses ‘er life, she might be vulnerable t’ become a knight anyway.”

“Uhm… I might be asking a fuckin’ dumb question here, but what does dying have to do with becoming vulnerable?”

“When one becomes a ghost, yer essence is at its most susceptible to influence. You, for example, were once Eddie, an’ Borbo took advantage of his once undead state t’ make you who you are today. An iteration of Sucré had their essence harvested, likely from a state of bein’ a ghost, and stashed away in the crystal. Hence, respawnin’ anytime th’ body is destroyed.”

Huaso goes quiet, watching as the knight seems to be in deep thought, before realization crosses his eyes.

“Oh… shit.”

“What?”

“When I found you by the plateau of the abandoned mines leading to Cribeat, I felt traces of 81’s soul. He had passed by there to pull a switch earlier. This was before I purified him; I couldn’t forget the essence’s signature.”

“Yer jus’ rememberin’ this now?”

“Not only that.”  
Pure turns his head, looking at Huaso with unease. “81’s a ghost now. If what you’re saying is true, his essence is completely defenseless. If U-Gore finds him… I want to look for him before he’s discovered. That much I want to do for him.”

“Pure, we’ve spent the last three odd weeks travellin’, and an additional month doin’ our thing before I tried stoppin’ ya from doin’ a dumb against UG. We might’ve left it too little too late.”

A look of stubborn resolve crosses the knight’s face.

“…I still have to fuckin’ try.”

~~

A pocket tear opens up by the train station at the mountain entrance.

Upon arriving, Huaso knew he didn’t need to be blind to see that the cave inside has, for now, glitched out. “Makes me wonder if UG hasn’ woken up yet…”

As he steps out, he is followed by his larger friend, who shivers as he looks around. He can sense encryption in the air, a consequence of the Knight’s crystal being shattered in this region

“I honestly thought I was a hero, but I was also being told what to do at the time…”

“I know. Some people will love ya, some will hate ya. But don’ forgit, friend; in a pinch, ya always have yourself ta count on. As well as li’l ol’ me.”

They share a glance, and Pure nods in understanding. “You’re good at that, you know?”

“Good at what?” Huaso tilts his head as he asks.

“Turning a shitty mood on its head and shoving it back to wherever it fuckin’ popped up in the first place.”

Huaso barked a laugh. “I guess ya could say that. Eddie… wasn’ the happiest camper. Often had self-loathing kickin’ his ass. But if I caught it in the act, I would be right there ta send it packing.”

“I wish I could have been able to help you when you were down.”

“Ya did, in yer own way Pure; the most ya could do is lend an ear, even if ya didn’ get the gist of it half the time. You also kept by my side, just like ya promised.”

Pure takes a moment to think, looking up at the mountain with the diagonal cut. He could see particles of data floating from the carving. He continues to think back to what he did in the deep recess of it, where the crystal was, where he delivered the final death blow to the clone.

It’s faint, very faint, but it’s there. The likelihood that the trail has gone cold is high.

He spreads his wings.

“Huaso, I’ll be right back. With any luck, I’ll return with coordinates and we can tunnel there.”

~~

It has been an hour, approx.

Huaso found a place to sit down and chew on some Abaddon jerky, enjoying the taste the salt brings out. Although a small part of him was worried about Pure, he knew deep down that he’ll return. The big guy hasn’t had lunch himself yet.

After finishing his lunch, he takes out his phone again, and scrolls through his contacts. The highlight eventually lands on a contact number with the name ‘Ted’ on it.

Pure isn’t here to object. And Fred has his own number, too.

They have sat in silence for too long.

Seeing as Ted is more sensible than Fred, Huaso presses the green button to dial up.

Placing it to his ear, the sounds made echoes erupt from the side the phone was held at, before it finally begins to ring.  
On the fifth ring, Huaso’s heart took on the weight of anxiety.   
On the sixth ring, it clicks as the recipient picks up.

“Hello?”

It’s Ted. He sounds tired.

“Sorry man. It’s me, Huaso.”

“It’s been a while.” a yawn follows the statement.

“Did I wake ya up?”

“Yeah, but… It’s nearly dinner, so it’s appreciated.”

A pause hangs in the air before Theodore talks again.

“How’s your search going? Have you found him?”

“…I have.”  
Huaso lets his grim tone sink in before he continues, “But… he ain’t the same. And at the moment, he doesn’ want contact jus’ yet.”

“…What happened?”

Theodore, worried sick, but calm and composed. Whether Fred is around or not.

“Borbo fucked ‘im up big time. Pur- I mean, Eddie doesn’ remember anythin’ since wakin’ up as a biological weapon.”

“I’m going to take a guess that you’re doing everything you can to help him remember.”

“Eddie literally remembers nothin’ about bein’ himself, but he’s startin’ ta come t’ terms of his past. If ya decide t’ tell Fred, try not to git his hopes up?”

A moment skips as Ted seems to contemplate this information. “I’ll abstain from saying anything, for now. I’ll trust you on this one.”

“I think yer trust is misplaced.” Another pause follows, before Huaso clears his throat. “A-Again, I’m sorry.”

“Huaso, do you remember what Epsilon told you, before you started construction of the amusement park?”

A whimsical chuckle escapes. “Course I do. ‘Don’ be sorry for the things that ain’t yer fault.’”

“Exactly. Epsilon told me that, too. We all could have done something to help Eddie.”

“Batter, there’s somethin’ else.” Huaso heaves a sigh, a frown resting on the goggles.  
“I can’t leave the Unloadin’ File. I’ve tried to pocket tunnel outta there, but every exit opens up elsewhere in the Unload. If, an’ when Eddie is ready t’ meet both ya an’ Fred, Flo will come git ya.”

“That sucks.” A pause, “Thanks for letting me know. I know keeping Fred out of the loop is bad, especially since they’re both brothers, but I can understand why. He’s reacted badly to his brother fucking himself up in the past before.”

What is taking Pure so long?

“Guess I’ll let you go. Got myself and Fred to feed… Oh, and Huaso?”

“Yeah?”

“…Don’t fuck it up.”

The phone clicks.

Huaso blinks, seeing the time recorded on his device before putting away.

Good old Theodore, indeed.

~~

“Huaso?”

Three long hours. Three hours too long. The knight has returned, a little bloody, but not worse for wear. He had to fight many spectres along the way as he followed the essence’s trail.  
Three hours too long, and he comes back to his little friend fast asleep.

“Hua?”

He kneels down, gently shaking a shoulder with a hand.

The snort that followed was alarmingly cute, as Huaso nearly jostled from his sleep.

“Pure…?” he yawns, resting a hand over the knight’s own. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he saw more than just a neutral expression. He saw disappointment in his pale eyes.

“…I’ve found 81.”


	8. Eidolon Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another piece of history is replayed within the realm of sleep, further clarifying, yet complicating the catacombs of Eddie's past.
> 
> And an important spirit is finally found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting half a day early, since I'll be out in the morning, and busy with tabletop RPG in the afternoon.
> 
> Enjoy.

So it wasn’t just blood stains from fighting spectres and ghouls alone.

Pure played the part of a cat in pain so well, up until he and Huaso got done setting the tent up. The miner caught on pretty soon, seeing as the knight looks completely spent, as though he ran out of items to restore his savvy. He’s aware that Pure can, and will, heal himself in a pinch. But he has been away for three hours, tracking a wayward soul of his own making to see if the clone is okay.

And while he did find 81, Pure wouldn’t say in what state he is in.

~~

The façade of his well being broke as soon as Pure stepped into the warm bath tub, deliberately crafted to be large enough for both of them, and still not spill any water. He hisses for a bit, before deciding to keep one bloodied calf out of the water.

“Now what’s wrong, friend?” Huaso asks, drying his hands and putting gloves on. Neither of them have spoken since the knight got back. The harbringer chalk it up to giving him a bit of space.

“Nothing…” Pure responds quietly, looking at the water’s surface. It is steamy and warm.

“That doesn’ look like nothin’.”

Huaso was right by his side, trying to get a look at Pure’s face, who looked away.

“Would ya like some help?”

“Only if you want to…”

This is an odd behavior, even for him.

Huaso got to work, cleaning up the wound before applying a kismet ticket to it. Once the gash has completely healed over, the knight slowly pulls his leg back into the hot water.

“All better. Although ya do look tired, ya had enough energy an’ tickets t’ heal that wound. Why didn’ ya?”

Pure found one of the tapestries to be interesting, slowly blinking at it.

“…Because I fuckin’ deserve that.”

“Hey, what do ya mean?”

The miner rounds the bathtub, getting a look at the other’s sombre expression.

“What happened?”

“81… When I first spotted him, he looked as though he didn't remember anything. But he recognized me… said something about a recurring dream. A nightmare, rather. He lashed out, before retreating.”

“Pure…”

The ex-miner takes a gentle hold of the other’s hand, the action getting the other to look at their hands, before at his face.

“Yer more than welcome t’ blame yerself, but I would never blame ya. I blame Borbo for given’ ya the order to do what you did. We could look for 81 again tomorrow, or we can continue on with what we were doin’ before. Even if ya still believe it’s yer fault, don’ ever neglect yerself like that again, please.”

For a moment, Pure closes his eyes, listening to the other’s words. Words from someone that has never judged him, never faulted him, and always gave him new insight whenever he asked him about something or other. What did he do to inherit the harbringer as a friend from his past self?

“I want to try and talk with 81. But I can’t do that without you.”

“Then we will do that. Tomorrow. Ya must be tired.”

\--

_It’s the open void again._

_If the dreaming knight had to admit, he didn’t want to be back here. The last time he touched an orb of light, it ended with him waking up with a scream. But he sees a different light piercing the void now._

_He swims towards it, following the pull, that beckons his essence unfailingly._

_\--_

_Man, that felt good punching this guy’s face in!_

_But in Pure’s defense, the baseball player was coming at him first._

_He’s ranting. He can hear himself ranting and raving. Some expletives being tossed in at a given dime._

_The monster asks him to stop his rant._

_“BUT GODDAMMIT, I ACTED IN SELF-DEFENCE!”_

_\--_

_Pure later identifies the baseball player with the crocodile snout as ‘Bad Batter’._

_And yet, his signature and disposition reminds him of his supposed younger brother._

_White Batter, wasn’t it?_

_They are walking up a long set of stairs, containing the colors of the rainbow._

_“Hey.”_

_He gets a muffled response from the Batter, presumably, his youngest brother._

_“Sorry for punching you. But still, I was acting in self-defense.”_

_In hindsight, as cathartic as it was to land the punch, Pure did feel bad for it._

_\--_

_Everything within Heaven was a blur, but Pure did manage to pick out some highlights._

_He slugged Bad into a paste for eating the inhabitants._

_He found Batter sleeping in an alleyway with the Willful Rooster card._

_He distracted an entire shipment of Secretaries, while the flames of the furnace were unable to phase him._

_He laid down on the tram seat, half humoring, half agreeing with Batter’s wish to be dead._

_Bad called him ‘Mr. Swears-a-lot-no-fun-allowed’ for denying him the idea of opening a mailbox. This subsequently lead to a conversation of ‘go fuck yourself’, something the Batter did not want to hear._

_Telling his brothers to just stop while he tries cheering up Sucré._

_Dreaming of the sewerslide again._

_Fighting shades at the crack of dawn._

_Climbing a trippy tower, reaching the top, complain with more pointless cursing before Omega shows up._

_\--_

_Batter said something about how floating away from the sky is a familiar thing for him._

_Pure snapped._

_He is seeing red._

_His hands, larger than when he recalled while being Black Batter, clasp the Batter’s neck._

_His fingers dig in._

_He is gaining tunnel vision._

_The longer he holds, the harder it is to see._

_To breathe._

_Is he strangling himself?_

_Is he strangling The Batter?_

_He barely hears Bad egging him on._

_He can feel himself, and see Bad, starting to fade away._

_“NO. NO. NO. SHUT. THE. FUCKIN’. HELL. OF. YOUR. GODDAMN. BULLSHIT. UP! NO. NO. NO. NO. FUCKIN’. STOP.”_

_It’s only when the Batter begged Bad for help, that Pure comes to his senses._

_He is overwhelmed with grief._

_Sadness._

_Disgust._

_His hands cover his face._

_“Fuckin’ hell. I’m sorry. I’m so motherfuckin’ sorry. Goddammit.”_

_Pure mumbles into his hands. Something about how this idiot right here doesn’t need pity._

_“Dammit, why is it raining here?”_

_\--_

_Pure feels dizzy._

_That purifier, KNO3, knocked him and Bad out._

_Shortly after watching Batter head onwards, alone, after the gates locked them outside._

_Pure feels stupid._

_He’s a ghost._

_He can phase._

_Why didn’t he remember at the time?!_

_Stupid, stupid, fuckin’ stupid!_

_\--_

_His stomach drops when he sees that Batter has collapsed, possibly dead, in a pool of blood._

_Or, if he’s lucky, has only concussed._

_As Pure rushes over to help, digging into inventory for some tickets, he hears a bang._

_And the floor rushes up to meet him._

_He hears Bad quacking something before the bang goes off again._

_\--_

_Yes, he has been sitting here, with a rain puddle of his own making. That same one Bad nearly slipped up on more than one occasion in the cell._

_A few words exchanged, and Bad jumps out the window._

_Like an asshole._

_Pure feels gutted._

_Why does he and his brother get into a lot of arguments?_

_Once more, he also asks himself why didn’t he do his ghost thing and phase out between the bars?_

_On a lighter note, though…_

_Batter looks like he’s been through a suffering curve._

_He looks resolute._

_Like he has found the answer to what being a hero is all about._

_Pure looks at his hands again._

_Maybe he should learn from him._

_After he and Bad put aside their disputes, with the Batter’s help._

_After they stop Heaven from falling._

_After finding a home just perfect for the three of them in Moonflower City._

_\--_

_But not three minutes,_ three fucking minutes _of moving into their new home, does Pure start arguing with Bad again._

_He who eats the last bite, goes out to buy more._

_Bad had this last bite._

_And he’s already complaining about being tired._

_While Pure and Batter have to sit here and starve._

_This will not fucking fly._ _  
_ _Not._ _  
_ _At._ _  
_ _All._

_For the next five hours, he and Bad engage in an argument._

_An argument of legendary proportions. All vocal, none of it physical._

_After those five hours, Pure feels hoarse._

_He leaves in a huff, storming, finding the nearest red box._

_The files are nothing but lies. He knows this._

_But he doesn’t know how else to make the credits to buy back all the food that has been eaten in the house._

_Spectres produce credits._

_And they need purifying anyway._

_Pure heaves a sigh, trying to calm himself down._

_He closes his eyes, touches the red box…_

_And takes the plunge back into the Nothingness._

\--

The knight awakes with an abrupt shudder, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. Not as traumatic as the first dream, but it definitely held a lot more in a packet. He blinks the tears from his eyes. His heart is swimming with a lot of emotions.

Anger, grief, sadness, disgust… pride?

Pure still has trouble connecting to a past that he’s not sure is his, at least on an emotional level. His wings feel as though they have been ensnared by a spider web, and no matter how hard he flaps, the feathers only get entangled more. He settles to remain flat on his back, heaving another sigh. His little friend is curled up at his side, hugging his left arm.

Maybe it’s a good thing that he woke up quietly this time.

He doesn’t want to feel guilty for ripping the sick mole out of his own sweet dreams.

~~

“Hey, ya said ya wanted ta look at the amusement park, right?”

Pure hums in question at this, getting up from the bed, and walking over to the dining table, taking a seat. The cylinder package is open, and several blueprints are laid flat over the table. Among them, some photos.

“You remember.”

“‘Course I do, Pure. Asked a friend to take a few poster shots, as well as a few small photos, an’ some copies of the blueprints used.”

“Blueprints… like, complex sketches to help build things with?”

“Yeah, like that. But that ain’t important.”

The two go through the pictures together. The posters hold a lot of color and fun, and display the attractions at their best sides, angles, and the atmosphere looks so inviting. Promising thrills, jubilance, and an empty wallet at the end of the day.

There were additional photos; of Huaso himself, and Eddie, in a group photo with the work crew that Omega took, for memories of the construction. While nobody gave anybody else bunny ears, Eddie did give a thumbs up with a cheerful grin.

Pure smiles.

This is something he can relate to.

“I forgot Omega took this. He said to git together for this group photo before we start puttin’ some framework an’ bolts together.”

“You two look so happy.”

“We were. Eddie was assigned foreman by me, so it would be unlikely for ‘im t’ be in the way when stuff goes down. Obviously, that didn’ work.”  
Huaso chuckles fondly at the memory. “He opened a box o’ bolts while it was on its side, causin' trips and turns, an’ breaking a statue that Omega hated anyway. Then there’s tryin’ the whack-a-spectre that ‘e broke down. That’s… roughly the only thing he messed ‘round with, ta be honest…”

He gives another sigh, a smile lingers.

“Pure, can I tell ya somethin’?”

“Uh, sure.” The knight gives his full attention to Huaso.

“Ya know that Eddie an’ I were in love. What ya don’ know is that it took longer for me t’ realize that. He liked me from the git go, when he came crashin’ into my workplace. When ‘e started his little outburst, I was worried that I might be in for a fight. An’ he was the first purifier to be puppeteer-free. Not only that, he was formidable. I would’ve had a hard time defendin’ myself.  
“Despite the swearin’, he was charmin’. I dunno how much elbow grease he was puttin' in to make this love grow, but I started t’ feel those ‘butterflies in the stomach’ sensation after a month of ‘im visiting me. After two months since we met, ‘e invited me over to meet his brothers. A week after that, ‘e took me t’ see Heaven. An’ thanks t’ my enthusiasm t’ work in machineries, I was hired ta help build the amusement park. And… I kinda roped Eddie into helpin’, too. But it seemed like he didn’t mind at all. Lookin’ back at that month of work, I now see why.  
“He stuck by me outta love. He’s been flirtin’, tryin’ ta make moves, he’s even ditched his own bed an’ come crawlin’ into mine on a nightly basis in a room with two beds durin’ our stay. His excuse was that it didn’ have me in it. The only problem is that he always chose the wrong time ta make a move. Either I was tired, grumpy, or havin’ another one of those ‘zombie brain’ days.”

At the mentions of zombie brains, Pure gives a chuckle. He’s smiling, he’s got a mild blush on his cheeks. It… does sound like something a past iteration of himself would do. And he wouldn’t blame Eddie. Huaso is cute, and endearing, and ever so patient. The latter Pure would have to admire, considering the amount of times Eddie messed up somewhere.

“I guess my lack of reciprocation got on ‘is nerves, but it’s not like he knew I was fallin’ for him durin’ the entire month we worked, ate, an’ slept together. When he confessed that he actually liked me, in the Ferris wheel, I felt obliged t’ confess back. Even… even admit that I love ‘im.”

Huaso shifts in his seat, glancing down as a blush bloomed on his cheeks.

“We had a lot of… interestin’ adventures followin’ that, including the first time we explored the Unload File. We made new friends, an’ got back in touch with old ones. I’ll always love Eddie, ya know. He has a piece of my heart, an’ I’ll miss him deeply. But… that doesn’t mean I can’t share my heart with ya too, Pure.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

That was the simplest reply that Pure could come up with.

“What if I wanted t’ share my heart with ya?” Huaso asks, glancing up at Pure. It’s not like the knight will snatch it and run with it with the intent to hurt the miner.

“But what if I hurt you like Eddie did in the past?”

“I know ya won’t, Pure. Ya made a promise, and I did too. I mean, it’ll still hurt regardless, but for future reference, a heads up that ya want an out would be nice.”

One of Huaso’s bare hand rests over the knight’s own.

“I’ll admit; I think I’m startin’ to really like you.”

Pure moves his thumb to brush over the back of the miner’s hand, taking note that the sugar's regrowth is coming from the nails, and has already covered each finger up to the first knuckle.

~~

“I had a dream last night.”

Now it was Pure’s turn to speak up, exiting the pocket tunnel to the coordinates he gave to Huaso. He looks out to the cityscape on the horizon, with grey clouds, and what looked like white confetti coming down thick and heavy. Leading to the train station was a pathway made of clouds, and light posts to guide the way. The wall that the pocket tunnel opened up upon looked like an abandoned warehouse, and growing to its left was a tree with leaves. He found this location after tracking 81’s soul for as far as here. He left after the spirit came out, very barely recognized him, and attacked him.

Anyway, back to the topic his mind is on.

“I think it was the time Eddie went on that trip around Heaven with his brothers.”

“Yeah, he told me ‘bout that, too. Is it the one where Batter learns t’ be a hero?”

“Yeah, that.” Pure nods, “I can only recall certain points about the dream… did Eddie tell you about the trip through Heaven?”

“He did. Twice. Second time, he let loose ‘is atrocious vocabulary.”

“Just to be sure… Can you recall the story he told you, as best as you can? I want to be sure that this dream is another attempt at remembering things. Because…” he pauses as he squints, “I felt a slew of emotions, emotions that I’m not sure I want to feel.”  
Pure frowns as he confesses. The essence trail leads to the train station down the cloudy path. As he starts to follow the pull, he can feel one of his hands being gently grasped by his little friend.

~~

By the time Huaso finished Eddie’s story about his trip through Heaven for the first time, the wagon had arrived at the station. Everything the engineer has said confirmed that it was, indeed, another piece of memory leaked to him.

Pure looks down, placing his unheld hand over his chest. On one hand, it’s true. On the other, he’s still not sure he wants to feel those negative emotions. Maybe Eddie did go to all that effort to shed that burden.

“Hey, buddy. Is this our ride?”

“…No. It’s his stop home.”

Right at those words, a spirit steps off.

Huaso nearly double takes when he almost instantly recognizes the red baseball helmet. But more than that, the dead clone held a very similar body shape.

The spirit does the same, hollowed eye sockets widening. The knight of his nightmares is back. And he’s got company?  
He starts to slither backwards towards the wagon, however it already rings the bell, shuts the doors, and departs from the platform. He sprints to the end of the platform, trying to reach the handle, but is too slow.  
It was also at this last second that he trips. Before he falls over and plants himself into the rails, he feels a hand grasp the back of his collar, and hoist him back onto the platform.

“Ya can fly! How’d ya forgit that?!”

That voice!

81 has heard him in his dreams, too! Is it possible, is it _just_ possible that his dreams aren’t dreams?

“Who-? Wha--? Mister-?”

“Huaso, an’ don’ ya forgit it!”

The harbringer sets him down away from the platform’s ledge, taking a step back.

“Now what are ya running from?”

“Don’t you see? That’s the guy that killed me!”

81 points right at the knight.

Pure, in turn, only tilts his head with a miffed expression in his eyes.

“He’s with me now. The only reason ‘e did what ‘e did was all Lenny’s fault.” Another attempt to swallow down a gag. Even after that cathartic venting, Huaso still hates the Ex-harbringer of Death. “He wouldn’ hurt a December. Not unless it threatened us first.”

The spirit takes a moment to catch his breath. Not that he needs to; he’s already dead.

“N-No offense, Mr. Huaso, but I still find that very hard to believe.”

“Don’ believe me, huh?” Huaso takes another step back, motioning for Pure to come on over. “Why don’ ya take a gander an’ see if he’s still got any of ‘is halos?”

Wordlessly, Pure approaches the two, sometimes pausing in his steps when the clone flinches for no apparent reason. Once close enough, he kneels down.

“You have a very familiar body shape. I don’t know why, though…”

An honest opinion.

81 does not recall Pure being this dense. He was coherent, and held conviction in his actions to purify the party before.

But that was back then. This is now.

Right. Halos. Pure Knight, at least in the dreams, had three rainbow rings. One on each wrist, and one behind the helmet.

Keyword; _had._

81 floated over to him, checking the knight out, sometimes flinching when the wings gave a twitch. “What happened to them?”

“Lenny relinquished control, for one reason or another, when Pure gave UG a concussion. He’s been followin’ me on his own volition since.”

“A concussion? Is… is that why I feel like I’m stuck in a loop? I always wake up, feel the need to board the train, arrive at the destination, only to take the train back. But it’s the same long dream.”

Huaso and Pure share a look.

“He has amnesia, doesn’t he?”

“Struck the diamond in the rough, Pure.” Huaso nods with a grunt. He looks at 81.  
“As it stands now; yer vulnerable as a ghost. UG hasn’ found ya yet because I believe his lights are still out f’ the time being. And maybe we’ve gotten lucky up ta this point. I honestly dunno what’ll happen in the foreseeable future, but if ya wanna git outta this loop an’ come search for a Super Joker with us, yer welcome t’ join us. If not, don’t.”

A moment of silence passes. Huaso and 81 continue to stare each other down.

The next wagon arrives. This time, its destination is going the other way.

“Yer welcome t’ break the cycle anytime, man. But we found ya, an’ we’re relieved that yer alright. It’s a peace of mind for us, even if it ain’t necessarily the same for ya.”

~~

81 never thought he would ignore the whispering orders that have dictated this cycle of an unformed truth. Yet here he is, after a month of radio silence, sitting in the wagon, opposite to where Huaso is seated. Next to the miner, the big knight that ended his life, as well as the lives of those in his party, was lying down. Looking all but bored with the world.

If 81 were to vocally express that he wishes he was dead, Pure would likely agree.

Except the clone is already dead. A ghost, more like it.

It’s not like the big bed in his brand new tent, but Pure felt at peace lying down and taking up four seating spaces thanks to his overall height. If the wagon is full, and someone wants to sit down, only then will he sit up. He glances up at Huaso. When the sick inhabitant glances down and smiles at him, he returns the grin. Something about this feels familiar…

During that dream of Eddie’s trip through Heaven, Pure recalls a section of the dream where he was lying down, between his brothers, and kind of agreeing with the youngest. It was at a time where Batter found himself lost, stranded in a world that isn’t a lie, without a puppeteer, a direction, a purpose. All while believing that he’s done nothing but bad things. A Savior cannot do any bad, only good. Yet when the vast majority of ingrates or the misunderstood say otherwise…  
Pure blinks. He doesn’t know where that train of thought came from. It will do him no good to run circles around the big question; he’s already made a choice. He’s a hero, not a savior.

He glances up at Huaso again. “Where do you think this train is going?”

“I dunno.” he replies, glancing at the docile knight once more, “It has multiple stops. We’ll get off at our own leisure. Or when 81 hops off, if he likes.”

“Uh, you don’t have to.” 81 spoke up. He was in a spot of his own daydreaming. It’s surreal to see the artificial knight and the harbringer so close together. He squints, vaguely recalling in a dream that Huaso initially came to the Unload File looking for someone named Ghost. And during the few interactions they had, Huaso has shown no obligation or belief to obey U-Gore. Unlike himself, or that grinning cat, or that harbringer of Life, from what one of his friends told him.  
What was his friend’s name again?

81 shifts to get comfortable, taking stock of how many other spirits, ghouls, spectres, even naked balls of essence sitting within the tram. Looks like the bringer of diseases and the knight off the string are the only ones with a beating heart here.

“Mr. Huaso? Did I have… friends?”

Huaso perks up. He had slid a few fingers under the knight’s helmet to pet his hair, on Pure’s request. “Huh? Yeah, ya did. There was the squeaky voice Elsen, a powerful but disinterested purifier, and a caterpillar doin’ his best Lepi impersonation.” he pauses, taking a moment to recall the names, “Zinzo, Ylidomda, and Mark.”

“I… thought so.” The spirit glances down, a sad frown on his hollow eye sockets. “How are they?”

“I can’ say f’ sure. Someone was right nearby with the Super Jokers, can’ say who. But they also claimed that yer body was gone when they arrived. Hence… yer undead state as it is.”

“Mark told you to take the coward’s option.”

81 flinches, looking at Pure who chose now to speak up. Hearing him sound so content with the world, subdued, quiet, a far cry from his tone of conviction, of dedication. Perhaps he sounds just as lost as the clone is right now. The knight is looking at him, one eye closed as he feels the bringer pet his hair.

“Why didn’t you run?”

“I-I don’t remember. All I can recall from the dream is that I was shocked, flabbergasted, after you took out all my friends. They didn’t deserve that, if it was me that you were only after.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Lenny thought otherwise, and made the call for me to act upon it.”

Something they could agree on? 81 felt something new spark in his essence. Anger.

“When I find that bastard-”

“Don’ bother.” Huaso interrupts with a grunt, remaining calm thanks to the knight’s purring, “Lenny is immortal. It comes with the job, an’ its aftermath, of bein’ the Harbringer of Death.”

The wagon rolling onwards over the rails is the only sound keeping the ambiance feeling alive in a pause of vocal silence.

81 closes his eyes.

“Maybe violent anger isn’t the answer. Not against an ancient who probably has the same wish as you do, Mr. Huaso.”

“Huh?” he tilts his head. What does the clone mean by that?

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Your voice held a tone; that you were alone, feeling betrayed, perhaps in a spot of denial. You swore the most out of all the inhabitants, even the robotic workforce within Tri. This ‘Ghost’ you were looking for must have had the worst backlog history of swearing up a storm. You must have done it because you were feeling homesick?”

“Boyfriend-sick is more like it. Didn’ think you, the jock, would have had me figured out.”

“So Mr. Huaso, is it possible that-?”

“Can we _please_ not bring this fuckin’ conversation up again?”  
Both undeads look at Pure. He looks irked. He gives a heavy sigh, causing the purring to reverberate on a high volume in his chest. “Huaso has been through a lot, yes. And I know a good chunk of it is my fault, even when I know jack-shit about what I did prior to waking up. His boyfriend was overwhelmed with grief, and his desire to get stronger, or even strong enough to shake it off, made him blind to all the good things he had going for him. His abrupt disappearance has affected my friend deeply. I hear that shit one more time, I’m going to hug Huaso and never fuckin’ let him go.”

Huaso clears his throat, staring at the knight who looked right back at him. “Thank ya, for stoppin’ that train of thought.” He then directs his gaze to 81, “Is it possible that yer sayin’ that Lenny has a permanent death wish himself?”

“M-Maybe. I didn’t get the entire monologue of what Lenny said to us, but he wanted to stop this eternal cycle of death and rebirth. A cycle he had a hand in making. A cycle held together by a sadistic entity who wants to entertain itself, but never move on.”

“A cycle that he knows as U-Gore?” Huaso asks.

“And he was going to use you-” 81 points at the knight, “as a means to execute this plan.”

“He would have succeeded, if Huaso hadn’t convinced me, begged me to stand down.”

“And if I hadn’ known about this plan, I would’ve allowed it t’ happen while bein’ none the wiser.”

Another pause drags out between the three, the wagon slowing to a stop.

“That was then; this is now. The future is uncertain. But you’re here, you’re at peace, and I’m still trying to make sense of a past that I can’t remember. Let’s not fuckin’ dwell on that; what we should dwell on is what we do when taking the next step forward. U-Gore is still out cold, so until he comes to, you’re free to do as you please, 81. So tell us; what do you want to do?”

Honestly, it’s the speech with the most common sense that Pure has made since he started following Huaso.

The clone takes a look outside, spotting a sign. He can’t make out the words or symbols on it.

“How about we hop off here?”


	9. Retracing Forgotten Miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.
> 
> But retracing them isn't easy when the fog of amnesia hangs heavy in the atmosphere. Aren't trains fun?
> 
> The knight and the engineer also address a couple more rocks of guilt that they have been carrying.

A skip in her step.

A hitch of the bag on her shoulders.

The dummy heads jingling on strings.

A mask modelled into the familiar face of a scary swan.

Today is a good day. Yesterday wasn’t bad either.

Sucré had just left the Nothingness station to a land that smells foul, its scent carried on the winds from the horizon. But the grass she is walking on is a brilliant gold, so it shouldn’t be that bad. Right?

_‘Even when you’re out of work, you still have a job to do.’_

Unknown to her, someone was approaching the merchant head on. Their body, composed completely of pieces of meat, some choice cut. If one were to study this knight hailing from Estate Kvar, one would be foolish to think that they are a pirate, not a knight.

_‘Even when you don’t know what it is, your job knows what it is.’_

Sucré stops.

So does the pirate.

The two have locked their gaze.

_‘What it is…’_

The merchant drops the bag.

_‘that it’s coming to get you.’_

The knight smiles, bringing out their trusty flamethrower.

_‘I’m talking to myself,’_

A pair of feathery wings spread. A long sword is drawn.

_‘even when I’m saying you.’_

~~

A gentle breeze blows.

Pure holds his helmet in his hands, letting the wind ruffle through his hair. It’s a stop that no one recognizes. The stars are out, but the atmosphere in general is silent.  
It’s quite unnerving.

“Now what?” Huaso asks, sitting on the knight’s shoulder. “Ya lead, we follow, unless ya tell us otherwise.”

“I don’t need protection, I can look after myself…”

“I know, 81, I know. But I already said; yer vulnerable as a ghost right now, an’ I wanna make sure, _at least_ Pure an’ I wanna make sure ya figure out what it is ya wanna do before ya find yerself in lock-step to what He wants.”

At those words, 81 pauses to think. He looks at the sign to get the name of the station again, then out at the horizon.

“I don’t remember…”

The spirit starts to pace back and forth.

“I know I haven’t existed here this entire time. This isn’t my home, b-but I don’t know what my home is. Or was, for that matter!”

“You came here in a rocket ship.”

An input from Pure. The clone snaps his fingers and points at the knight.

“Yeah, I-I did, didn’t I! Ugh…” 81 starts pacing again, “I don’t know _why_ I arrived, or why I was sent here. Or why I haven’t left sooner. But I know I can’t fix it, or leave until I finish something here…”

Huaso and Pure share a look. The clone can only remember so much.

“I have amnesia, too. A very strong case of it. I’ve already remembered little of who I once was, but I cannot connect to it on an emotional level.” Pure closes his eyes, something he seems to do when he’s in deep thought, “Maybe if you can recall how you felt at the time, it’ll be easier to remember?”

“I felt… s-something, in prison. Surprised, perhaps.”

“That was in Tri, wasn’ it?”

“Let’s look there, first.”

~~

This meant catching another train.

Alternatively, they could have taken a pocket tunnel, or used a red box, or even asked Pure to fly them there. That was before Pure told 81 that ‘pretending to be Superman’ was off the drawing board.

Huaso ran his claws gently through the knight’s hair, who was lying down once again. 81 looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. Never, in all his time he remembers being here, does he peg the knight as someone who would hog a lot of seats just half napping.

“What else do ya remember?”

“Ah-!” 81 flinches, his tail curling before glancing at the ex-miner, “Not a whole lot. A woman made of smoke, a merman who’s apparently a fan of a comic series… a literal metal head, loved playing guitar… that’s about it.”

The train begins to slow down.

As the door opens to let one passenger on board, the smell of meat and blood accompanies it.

“Scary Ghosty Moth, Mushroom Cowboy~! :-D”

“Merchant?”

Pure perks up, eyes wide. He smiles when he recognizes the voice.

81 turns to look at the new, albeit bloodied merchant. She is totally different from Sarah, for sure.

“Who is she?”

“That’s Sucré. This iteration came from my very own file.” Huaso replies.

“Ohey, a friend of Mushroom? :-0 You, you look more like Ghosty Sock, but with a gap tooth. :-)”

“Uhm… t-thank you, I guess? I’m 81.”

“Hello 81, I’m Sucré. :-)”

The happy demeanor melts away as soon as she takes a seat.

“Mushroom, could you please play ‘Let’s Get This Over With’ on your guitar? :-( I’ve had that ear worm stuck in my head all day.”

Perplexed by the request, Huaso pulls out his old guitar from his bag and starts playing the tune, note for note.

Sucré sings the lyrics with ease. As the three other passengers listen, Pure starts to hum along to the tune as well. He doesn’t know the lyrics, but the song sounds upbeat.

As the train moves again, 81 looks out the window.

It’s a lot to let sink in. He _knows_ it was Pure Knight who ended his life. But it’s also the very same entity, travelling with Mr. Huaso, who reached out and offered a hand. To help him break from his eternal loop of purgatory, whatever that is.   
His tail gives a sway. Pure also said that he doesn’t remember a lot of things as well.

…What is this fucked up place?

~~

It took a few station hoppings, getting from one link of train lines to the next, and at one point Sucré had to part ways. Needless to say, Pure was getting restless; having had the freedom to fight ghouls yesterday, but spent today lying down on some seats. It’s nice getting some attention from his little friend. Perhaps at the next stop, he’ll hop off and find a place to vent, and discharge some of this pent up energy.  
He doesn’t have a desire to get any stronger. Lenny helped him reach this plateau. But Pure wouldn’t be happy to sit around and do nothing all day. Even a full day of walking around would have made him happy. And they’re not even doing that.

Although… in a pinch, he could ask Huaso for a different kind of attention. But this isn’t the time, or the place, and they have company that could listen in. On top of that, even though his little friend has kissed him, and has admitted that he really likes him, the knight still isn’t sure how far he can push his luck. As much as he really wants to--

“We’re here.”

Pure grunts, blinking his eyes open. Oh, he went for another nap while his thoughts went around in circles…  
He sits up with a yawn, stretching, wings giving a shudder.

“There were a lot of ghouls the first time I was in prison.” 81 says, getting up from his seat. Clearly, he’s not the only one itching to have a good stretch.

“This place is static. I can’t let loose and go all out here.”

“I know. Holdin’ back sucks, but there ain’t anything we can do ‘bout it in the meantime.” Huaso pats at the knight’s arm. “81, where do we start?”

The dead clone pauses, looking thoughtful.

“The cells were kept underground, by one floor. There were a few posters around the sewer system… one of them is of Bakudan.”

“And the other one?”

“That’s what I want to look at.”

~~

Pure remembers this.

He remembers passing through here, alongside Lenny. Thrashing about and slaying many robotic inhabitants and tier 3 secretaries. He was searching for something. Or some _one_.

As he follows along, bewildered that the corpses of before had completely vanished, Pure begins to feel something familiar; it is of guilt. At the time of the carnage, he was only taking action. He never had the space in his mind to think, or question himself if it’s the wrong thing to do.

As the elevator doors open up, and 81 leaves, the knight remains in a kneeled position.

Huaso notices this.

“81, how ‘bout ya go on ahead? Holler if ya need help, but I’m gonna have a word with Pure.”

“Alright, Mr. Huaso! I’ll be sure to!”

The three leave the elevator before the door closes, but the knight refuses to move once he’s out, soon taking a knee again.

“Pure, what’s wrong?”

Huaso turns around, facing his large friend. That passive expression did little to hide something that was starting to eat Pure from the inside out. He’s seen this look before, many times, on Eddie.

“Huaso. We need to talk.”

That is a stone-cold serious tone if the ex-miner ever heard it before himself.

“I’ve been here before. And I did a lot of… non-heroic things.”

“Alright then… lay it on me. If somethin’s eatin’ ya, let it out. Don’ hold onto the things that hurt you.”

Huaso, ever so patient. Pure begins to avert his eyes.

“What is your opinion of me? Because…” a pause as he swallows, “if it’s ‘innocent’, you can scratch that opinion off that list. I know what you’re going to say; ‘I was under Lenny’s control. All I could do was act, I had no room for thought.’ And you’re right, I didn’t have the mental capacity to halt, question myself, and then tell myself to ‘fuckin’ stop’.  
“I was here before. I was the one, breaking into the prison, and killing many personnel staff and secretaries. I was supposed to be a savior at the time. And thinking back when you told me that saviors are heroes that fight off the evil from within, I don’t think cold murder counts as an act a savior would do.”

“But the process of purifying, to rid a place of its misery, is fickle and questionable at best, buddy.” Huaso counters, soon hugging the giant, “An’ a lot of folk, myself included, don’ understand how it works. But some things are better this way.”

“Huaso, my point still stands; I murdered people. I scattered the remains of secretaries across the floors. And even if those souls are in a better place, those who are connected to the dead are perhaps a little more miserable than before… it’s all my fault.”

Pure lets his guard drop as he wraps his arms around his little friend.

“Correction, Pure; yer fault, an’ Lenny’s. I figured that ya had a role ta play in a series of destructive events in Tri. Thanks, for elaboratin’ that out to me.”

He pulls back from the hug, looking up at the knight. There’s something weighing heavy on his chest, too.

“Perhaps, while I was lost in a fog of grief, I couldn’ help but pin ya as innocent. Eddie did a lot of stuff in the past that anyone could easily pin the blame on him, easy to say that it’s his fault. I’m one of those people who’d try an’ throw that blame elsewhere. Even on myself, if need be. Thinkin’ back at it now, I think that’s how I let ‘im down the most. I wouldn’ hold him accountable unless I absolutely have to. In part, because I loved him, an’ because I was bein’ a little selfish. In my defense, I gave him an out at the start of this friendship, even when we became boyfriends. All he had t’ do is tell me that it’s over, that it couldn’t work out. I’ll manage; I’m tough, an’ though suicidal I will still find ways t’ move on. To be told is better than bein’ left out on a cold hook of a broken promise. I guess he forgot that option was available. Or maybe we were already too far deep into this relationship.  
“Even if he thinks I deserve someone better, that I can find happiness with someone other than himself, he’s forgotten one other thing; my choices in a potential partner is very far an’ few between. I can’t be with the livin’. The last thing I wanna do is get them sick an’ lose them forever.”

Pure takes a moment to think. Wait…

“I’m alive. I have a beating heart. Does this mean I can’t be with you?”

His tone sounds dismayed, looking his sick friend over.

“Pure, we’ve been around each other long enough t’ know that ya won’ get sick easily. Ya sat out in the rain for half a night once upon a time, an’ got soaked to the bone that you could’ve caught hypothermia. But ya didn’. And it ain’t because I worked hard t’ warm ya up again. So, yer alright.”

As the engineer chuckles, Pure gives a sigh of relief.

“You say, your incapacity to hold Eddie accountable is one of the reasons why you’ve let him down.” he pauses as he gives a hum, “Next time, if I do something and it’s entirely my fault, can you make sure that I know it well, rather than blame it on something else, least of all yourself? I don’t want you to take the blame that is clearly my fault, and mine alone.”

“I’ll try. Although… ya haven’ done anything wrong under my watch jus’ yet.”

Feeling a warmth of alleviation flood inside, the knight gives another squeeze.

“What ya did here is yer fault. But my anger, hatred, an’ vitriol behind this blame will always be levelled at Lenny. Don’ ya forget that.”

“If you guys are done making up, can you come give me a hand? There’s a really tough Floris Ana blocking the way.”

Sounds like 81 needs help now.

~~

They found it. They found the poster.

81 has been staring at it for the past ten minutes, his tail slowly swaying as he hovers off the floor.

Printed on this poster is a face. A very familiar face. If it were in color, this human Judge looking individual would have had blond curly hair, blue eyes, and a light blue baseball helmet. Unlike the dead clone, who wore a matching shaped red helmet, black hair, and green eyes. At least, back when he was alive, he _had_ green eyes.

Under it is some text:

‘WANTED FOR ASSAULT AND BATTERY - BALLMAN - REWARD OF 70000 CREDITS.’

“…That’s my boss’s picture.” The clone says, forlorn. He rests a hand on the paper, looking it over again. “It’s been a very long time. I wish I could finish my mission. It was to investigate the anomaly in the sky… and I got here by rocket ship. Didn’t I?”

He looks over his shoulder at Mr. Huaso, and the knight that took his life. The latter gave a nod.

“That’s what Huaso told me.”

“And then it ran out of fuel…”

The clone begins to pace again, as he very slowly starts putting the series of events together. He needed help getting home. They found a manual to repair ships, but it was in the language of cats. The last known Elsen, Zinzo, was raised by a cat, and said that Pabby would be able to help. Except he didn’t help. Instead, he told 81 that he is being held here by a being called U-Gore. This place is his canvas and he can do what he pleases with it. There is no way 81 can leave.

As the clone paces around, Pure gets an idea. Didn’t Huaso have a phone that ignores the rules of the files, able to transcend any and all natural barriers to get to the recipient? Isn’t that how he was able to contact Omega and provide pictures of the theme park in Heaven?

“Huaso? What about your phone?”

“Hm? What about it?” the engineer asks, looking at Pure in return.  
It takes a moment to click, but when it does, his face lights up. “Yer right!”

“Who’s right?”

81 stops his pacing, looking at Huaso during his ‘Eureka’ moment.

“I got this phone, specially made t’ ignore file rules. U-Gore hasn’ blocked my signals yet, I’ve been able ta contact a couple of friends the past few times I used it.” As Huaso explains, he pulls out what looks to be an ordinary hand phone from his pocket. “Do ya happen ta know yer boss’s phone number?”

The exciting buzz in the air didn’t last very long.

81 shook his head. “No, sorry, I don’t remember.”

And like that, the lead has gone cold again.

~~

The other poster within the basement level was of Bakudan “Bombo” Passa. Wanted for being an asshole. Huaso frowns.

“Hey, I can be an asshole, too. An’ I don’ see a poster of me ‘round here.”

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Sorry, mister. I hate to admit this, but I’m gonna have to agree with the big guy. Besides, you don’t seem like the type to mindlessly toss TNT around.”

Huaso glances between the two. Pure and 81 agreeing on something? What world is he living on now?

“I can come off as one, as first impressions. Don’ ya at least remember that, jock?”

“That’s because my friends and I came barging into your living quarters. If you were an asshole then, at least that’s a good reason to be one.”

“You broke into Huaso’s home?” Pure looks at 81 with suspicion.

“What? No, you blowhard! The door was unlocked. And Bakudan sent me his way when I was on the hunt for Mark.”

Pure looks at the picture again, and points at it.

“Huaso, if anyone here is the asshole, it’s this guy.”

~~

Trains were fun, initially.

Now Pure finds himself bored out of his mind, yet again, after a few fights with some ghouls. He’s lying down, being careless with his wings that time.

The train is being conducted by one of those metal robots. But if one of those guys are still around, does that mean Metal Knight is back? And if not, how is it still operational? 81 didn’t think to ask questions, instead looking out the window. “Guess we’re not parting ways until we get my boss’ phone number, are we?”

“Maybe not. Not until ya find peace, an’ do whatever it is ya wanna do. Or whatever it is He wants ya to do once He wakes up.” Huaso gives a sigh as he strums his guitar, “Alternatively, ya could also tell us to piss off.”

The train is slowing to a stop. Pure sits up, recognizing the place. Another piece of land brought to ruin by his hand; Cribeat. The guilt isn’t as intense as he felt it back in the prisons, but it’s still there nonetheless.

The train doors open.

Nobody is getting off, but someone is climbing aboard.  
First, a white cat with blue eyes and a timid grit of their fangs.   
The second, as far as Huaso can guess, a centipede.

81 sat up this instant, recognizing this idiot from anywhere.

“Mark?!”


	10. Cross Herring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected, and uncomfortable reunion awaits both 81 and Pure Knight.

An attack of opportunity.  
To the Pure Mongrel that took Ylidomda, Zinzo, his own, and finally 81’s life.  
To the Pure Mongrel that has laid waste to parts of Tri.  
To this specific **Motherfucker** who stole his identity, and more importantly left a crosshair on his back when 81’s sanity was running at an all time low after the death of Pablo.  
To the grave, and back.  
Mark didn’t bar many grudges, he is known as the Faceless Monk.  
But after all this ‘purifier’ did, this monk plans to go no holds barred.

However, it seems that the other passengers on board caught onto what it is he is about to do.

Starting with the Harbringer of Pestilence, standing up and putting himself between the monk and the knight.  
“Ya so much as punch his face in, I’ll have ya sent to ER before anyone can announce ‘Time of Death: 30 seconds ago’!”

Next was the familiar ghost. Who didn’t necessarily defend the knight, but rather was trying to process who had come on board.  
“M-Mark? Is that r-really you?”

Finally, his new feline friend, who called himself Coach. Although he was sure half of him would originally know him as Valérie. He sat by the harbringer’s foot, tail curled around the ankle.  
“I know Huaso and his large companion. I did not know this was the knight who devastated your friends.”

As for Pure Knight?

He’s still laying down on four seating spots. The commotion has grabbed his attention. Or part of it anyway. And most notably, the rainbow colored halos were absent. He looks perplexed. Lost. Confused as to why there is such hostility in the air during a standoff. He doesn’t remember much about Mark, other than that clash in combat.

The arms continued to flicker in and out of existence. One of his solid arms is grabbed by the ghost. The X on his face changes to a spiral as he looks at 81.

“Take a seat. I know you want to punch Pure Knight in, but this isn’t the time or the place. And you heard Mr. Huaso; he’ll attack you if you try. Train is about to move anyway.”

“81?”

Mark looks at the dead clone, a ghost of 81. But there is no mistaking it. The face makes several expressions before settling on the X again.

~~

Just to be sure this is the same knight they had once fought, and is indeed the very same knight Huaso refuses to stand aside for, Mark took the chance to suss out a Wide Angle on Pure.

He does not like what he reads.

 _Pure Knight  
_ _Weaponized purificatory incarnation._ **_Currently unrestrained, voluntarily docile. Has paid a dear price to get to this stage.  
_** _HP: ???? CmP: ????_

To avenge Pablo and the theft of his own image will need to be postponed, for now.

Coach churrs as he perks up from his nap, looking at the monk.

“Is everything alright, friend?”

A horizontal and vertical slot form on his face. “No, not really.”

81 looks at Mark. Someone he never considered a friend, but took a hit for him anyway, trying to cover for his escape. In vain. Someone he originally thought was Pablo’s killer, when it turned out to be Pure Knight this whole time. And speaking of the knight; he’s got the intellect of a box of rocks, yet seems complacent to even be lying down on seats in a train, in Mark’s presence no less. The tension in the air remains thick.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? To be honest, I didn’t remember you until Mr. Huaso jogged my memory.” 81 starts, trying to keep his former rival distracted. Or was it a friend?

“ **You do not remember?** ”

“No, not all of it. Mr. Huaso and Pure helped me put some of the pieces back together.” 81 gives pause, shivering, with his tail giving a flick, “Actually… It was Pure who reached out to me first, before getting Mr. Huaso to follow. When he first found me, I slashed his thigh before retreating.”

“That thing reached out to you?”  
Mark’s face shifted for a while, settling on an extended jaw with a neat row of teeth. “He has recently cleared his closet of skeletons. **But the cost of forgetting is high.** ”

Pure blinks, hearing a second voice their opinion from Mark. What does he mean by that? Or maybe he knows, and he doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

Watching and listening to Mark is already giving Huaso a headache. He rests his claws over the guitar, stopping the passive music. “I dunno if ya would be of much help, but do ya happen t’ know Ballman’s phone number?”

“ **I don’t know my actual name anymore.** But if you’re patient with me, I can try and remember.” The face soon adorns many eyes.

“No offense, but yer an eyesore.”

“Sorry about that. It’s funny though. **Coming from someone who can’t see very well.** ”

Mark stops when he feels the feline gently headbutt a solid hand of his, then press for head pets.

“Please, do not antagonize Pestilence. He’s been through a lot. I think everyone here has.”

Pure begins to tune out the conversation, settling to lie down properly without hurting or leaving his wings in a state where they can easily be damaged, should he awake from another nightmare.

\--

_He can see something in the dark._

_A batter, and a monster swan._

_They are hugging._

_The Batter perks up from his hug, and with a hand, wordlessly beckons him to come join them._

_Pure recoils, then shakes his head, folds his arms, rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh._

_After about a minute, he floats over, hugging them, stretching his arms to embrace them. It’s an awkward feeling. Three brothers hugging. But it feels familiar._

_Pure closes his eyes._

_A sudden sensation of loss overcomes him._

_The warmth is gone._

_Feeling this, he opens his eyes._

_The Batter is gone._

_Bad Batter is gone._

_Neither are seen anywhere in this void._

_Pure looks at his hands, feeling tears well up._

_All he could see are pale, blood stained hands, adorned with rainbow halos on each wrist._

_\--_

Pure flinches with a start, shuddering as the wing caught resting under him pulls out a feather.

“Buddy?” Huaso is looking at him. Looking concerned. “Ya didn’ seem t’ sleep well…”

The knight wordlessly nods, looking at his wrists again.

No blood. No rainbow halos.

He lets out a shaky sigh.

“81’s in the next carriage over, talking to his boss. Once we git my phone back, we should be free t’ part ways.”

Pure nods again, his eyes landing on Mark. For now, the monk seems preoccupied talking to Coach. And when they’re not talking, the feline is getting pets. The sight is rather cute.  
Why did he kill Pablo again? Because Lenny implanted the thought into his head, and sent him out to take action. The knight once thought that Huaso’s hatred to his creator was a little misplaced, but every time he thinks back on the things he’s done, it starts to make sense.

That heavy weight on his heart is back. “Huaso?”

“Hm?” the engineer grunts, glancing down at the knight again. “What is it?”

“When you get your phone back, can you call Flo? I think I’m ready to meet Eddie’s brothers…”

~~

Waiting at the upcoming train station was none other than Sarah. She happened to have a good feeling about this, grinning as the train rolled into view, slowing down.

The doors open. Stepping off first is 81. Though a ghost, just like her, he appears to have alleviated something off his chest. It looks like he’s here to stay, after doing the one thing he’s been meaning to do since arriving; report to his boss, even if it’s via phone call.

Next to step off is the man of her dreams; Mark. She cannot help it, giving a scream of joy as she runs over and gives him a hearty hug. It’s been a long time since they have seen each other.

Finally, the white cat with blue eyes, the bringer of pestilence, and the knight step off the train. At first, she felt her essence sink, but 81 reassures her that Pure is on passive terms.

“So what will you do now, Mr. Huaso?”

“I’m gonna make another appointment with a friend of mine, Flo. Afterwards?” Huaso gives a sigh, along with a meek shrug, “I might continue findin’ a place to call home.”

“ **I still need to avenge Pablo’s death.** ” Mark begins, his face on the default X for now, “But I realize this is not the time, nor the place. **Nor is it the same knight we have fought once before. This leaves us at a difficult crossroad.** ”

“I won’t fight you. Lenny can no longer make me, and I’m sure Huaso will only worry if I do decide to fight you on my own volition.”

“Oh, no, no no no. You two are not fighting.”  
Sarah frowns, giving Mark a nudge. “I lost you once before; Whoever came through with the Super Jokers was a miracle happenstance of being nearby. If he reduces you to a pile of meat and metal again, you’re both banned from my business.”

“Hey, Sarah? Any word from Zinzo and Ylidomda?”

“That little gremlin? He still visits my shop, stealing something on the occasion, but he’s back in Unu. Although, I haven’t seen Ylidomda lately.”

As the old friends talk, Pure starts to shift on his feet. He pulls his visor down.  
“Huaso, I want to leave. Now.” he says under his breath. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong anywhere near these troubled souls. He has already brought them enough pain.

“Ah, right. A-Anyway.”

Huaso clears his throat. “81, my phone, please.” he holds out a hand, waiting for the clone spirit to walk over and hand the little device back. For a brief moment, the engineer got to feel how soft the other’s hand was.  
Just as quickly though, he shakes it off; Eddie is gone, Pure is right there behind him, and he has no interest in 81. It’s all an unfortunate web of troubles. “Thank ya. I hope ya got what you’ve been meanin’ t’ do.”

“I should be thanking you! A-And Pure Knight as well! You both pulled me out of this ditch.” 81 explains, looking between the two before settling down. “Now that I see it… he looks content in your care than he was with Lenny.”

~~

Pure has done nothing but sleep all day, on every train that they have boarded. Sleeping in the tent now was not an option.

After asking Huaso to take another wildcard pocket tunnel, to a lucid place in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on the Unload file, he took the time and energy to fight the volatile fauna. If they pick a fight with him or his friend, he will send them sprawling.  
His friend didn’t encourage this, or dissuade him from fights. But if anything happens to be the knight’s fault, he doesn’t want Huaso to blame himself. The longer he went from fighting one ghoul to another, the more apparent this new feeling began to emerge. Is he nervous? He did ask Huaso to make an appointment with Flo. After all, if anyone is going to be able to get Batter and Bad into the Unload, it will be the doctor.

The most recent dream scared him.

But he’s still worried about their reactions to him and who he has become.

With a downward swing of his bat, the strong August he has been fighting didn’t just have its head crushed under the metric-ton swing. Its entire body crumpled before evaporating into dust and viscera.

As Huaso watches from camp, eating a recently done steak, he can’t help but worry that something else is now bothering the knight. As usual, when Pure is ready to talk, he’ll have his ears open.

~~

“Wait, really?”

“Yes really, Flo. Pure told me he’s ready to meet the brothers.”

“Wow, uhm. Okay? You don’t really have to make an appointment, right?”

If Flo had to be honest, he thought it would take a bit longer for Pure to come around to the idea of meeting Theodore and Fred. A month or two, but not in a matter of five days. “You know when I clock off. Call me again during my lunch time before you come over. And more importantly; call the brothers up about three or so hours before you do. Actually, do that six hours in advance.”

“Aight, will do. We’ll see ya tomorrow then.”

After hearing the other hang up, Huaso does the same.

~~

He spent another day travelling wayward with Pure, fighting off more of the fauna. Maybe tonight he will sleep well. Right now, he’s enjoying a drink in the tent, with the pocket weaver fabric doing its bit. Where they are now, tonight is said to rain.

Sure enough, in a few hours Pure came back in, soaking wet, wings immune to water, but still a little weighed down. He gives them a few flaps before stepping inside.

It was as though his little friend knew ahead of time, and the large bathtub is already full of steamy hot water. The sick inhabitant himself hasn’t had a bath yet. As Pure begins to strip down, he gets an idea.  
It might be a crazy idea, it might be a bold one. But he feels comfortable enough to ask.

“Hey, you worked hard too. Care to join me?”

Pure asks, moving a wing a bit to look over his shoulder.

“Ya sure?” Huaso perks up from his drink. How Sucré was able to find this Moonshine, ingestible by someone like him, is beyond his understanding, but he is mildly buzzed. He gets up from his seat. “Is it because ya want help with gettin’ yer back washed?”

“That, and no offense; you could do with a bath, too.”

“None taken. I guess I was due for a bath anywho.”

By the time Huaso took his boots off and stood up to get out of his overalls, the knight had already settled in the hot water. Pure takes this chance to glance over his shoulder again.

Huaso’s back is turned to him, still getting undressed.

That is a nice ass-

Before Huaso could turn around, Pure diverts his gaze. He was not looking, no sir!

“Ya needed help with yer back?” he asks, climbing in. Now why is the big guy acting shy? Diverted gaze, mild blush, giving the engineer the impression that he’s whistling innocently.

“Uh, y-yeah.”

Pure moves, keeping his back turned and his wings still. He tries not to let out a sigh when the wash cloth, lathered with soap and still warm with the water, presses gently into his back. He needed this. He damn well knows he needed a bath like this. But this does lead to him having some thoughts. His little friend is so good to him. 

Huaso smiles as he hears a purr rise in the other, making sure to wash off the dirt, blood, and other grime he has picked up. Especially the amount of germs Pure has likely gained just lying down on the seats in different trains. Being in the bath does mean they’re not standing in the shower, where a constant stream of water would keep his echoes active. So what little water moving around, along with the other’s purring, only gives the engineer some visual feedback.

Pure looks _strong, formidable._ Back when he was under Lenny’s control, he still wouldn’t view a harbringer as a target. But in a fight, regardless of pure energy being incapable of leaving a harbringer hollowed, Huaso still believes he would struggle to hold his own. Yet another reason why he never, ever wants to see the knight become livid with anything. He doesn’t doubt that Pure knows his own strength. If he didn’t, he would be reckless during a progress.  
Back done, he rests a hand on his shoulder. “All good.”

Pure nods. “May I do your back?”

“Huh? Yeah, s-sure.”  
Huaso scoots, making sure to sit with his back turned, after handing the cloth over to his companion. He doesn’t flinch when the other gets started on washing his back down. Pure is even careful with the patches of missing skin, and exposed, dry muscle fibers in those places.

Once washing each other’s backs is done, Pure lets Huaso know before scooting back, and letting himself sink and relax in the water for a bit. For now, he is content. As indicated by a happy sigh.

Nothing wrong with sharing a bath between two friends. Two very close friends at that.

Huaso is still sitting up, washing his arms, neck, chest, and stomach down, even getting to his legs. If the other is watching him, he’s oblivious to it.

“Huaso?”

The engineer perks up at the other’s inquiry. “Yes?”

“Is it okay that I can see your eyes again?”

A bold request, one that he’s not entirely comfortable to oblige to. At least, not right now.

“Later. I ain’t taking the goggles off while in bath water. And especially while yer submerged in it.”

He glances at the knight again, who seems very content to remain where he is. There is a smile on his face. It warms Huaso’s heart to know that there’s an honest simper.

~~

A good thing the stove heater was running, even though the wings didn’t need drying.

While Huaso was in his pajama pants, he kept the top off as he stood before the sink and polished slab of metal acting as a mirror. The goggles are off, and every now and then he would dab a wet washcloth to mop up the blood. The moment he notices that the sockets will not bleed for a while, he is satisfied enough to walk over to the knight.

“How are ya doin’ buddy?”

“Warm…” Pure replies, fully dressed for bed. It’s nice sitting in front of the stove while listening to the rain outside. “It was a good bath. I almost wanted to hug you while washing your back.”

“Well, ya could’ve, and I would not have minded one bit.”  
The engineer looks at the other’s face, able to tell that Pure is glancing away. “Hey, you asked. And this is as good of a place as any. You can look at me.”

The purifier wonders briefly that if he keeps making eye contact, he would build up an immunity to the effects of palsy. Unlikely, but it’s worth a shot.

He redirects his stare to the other’s eyes, and he can feel his spine seize up again. Remarkably weaker than the first two times he’s experienced it. What’s amazing about them this time is that the blood isn’t oozing from them. Is there like a period of time in the day where they won’t bleed, even for a little while?

“I like your eyes…”

“I dunno, Pure.” Huaso says, stepping closer, “I can see it still has an effect on ya.”

“It’s not as bad as the first two times.”

“First two? Buddy, I’ve only looked at ya on request once-.”  
The harbringer blinks. Of course, they also locked eyes in the shower, back in Hollow Metro. “You cheeky little teddy bear. That leaves me with a question, seein’ as I’m in a better mental state today than I was back then. Did ya like what ya see?”

Did Pure like what he saw when he looked over the shower stall? Despite his cognitive process working at half capacity with the effects of palsy bothering him, he thinks hard, comes to a conclusion, and nods with a slow blink. “I did.”

“Dearie me, I must have tainted yer mind.”

“Let’s be real; I’m not innocent, and Lenny did reintroduce me to the word ‘fuck’.”

“Pure, don’ ya start on that again.”

“You’re fuckin’ giggling.”

“Yer givin’ me the giggleshits, that’s why.”

Both broke out into a chuckle. With a tissue that he had in his hand the entire time, he mops up the blood that manages to escape.

“I liked your ass.”

“I figured as much. Caught ya lookin’ at that before ya looked at my face.”

“I know. I mean…”

The taller reaches forward, almost shamelessly, but still rigid from the gripping effects of palsy. He rests his hand on the middle of the sick inhabitant’s back, allowing himself to purr. “I really like you, too. Ass included. But…”

“Ya don’ know how t’ ask without ruining somethin’ good between us?” Huaso questions, tilting his head some when he gets a nod. “No pressure, Pure. When yer ready, you’ll know.” He pushes on the wrist gently, guiding the purifier’s hand down to his rump with a smile. Try as he might to not make a noise, that slight squeeze from the other’s hand still got the harbringer to squeak.  
“Though, I think we’ll both know when we’re ready for any kind of shenanigans.” he concludes, his other hand reaching up to mop up more bloody tears, as that encouraged grope made him blush.

~~

Of all things to wake up to, his phone ringing wasn’t one he was counting on.

Huaso gives a yawn, reaching for his phone on the bedside desk. Judging from the lack of warmth, Pure has already gotten out of bed before he did. He flips the device open and puts it to his ear. “Hello?”

“It’s me… 81.”

“How the Hell did ya get this number? Fuck that, how’d ya even get a phone?”

The engineer stifles a yawn. Normally, he would be worried about Pure’s absence, but he has been around the knight long enough to know what his essence feels like. And he’s just outside the tent, judging from the distance.

“I looked up your contacts list before handing your phone back. And Sarah sold me a phone of a similar build…” the ghost clone answers nervously. “It’s about Yli… I think I’ve seen her before.”

“Go on.” he prompts, settling in bed, phone still to his ear.

“I’ve seen her wait at the station with me. She was a ball of light, with a rainbow essence. She said she found my face to be familiar. Like we might have met however long ago?” 81 gives pause as he tries to recall the time spent at the station, “I haven’t seen her since I got caught in a purgatory loop. I hope she’s alright…”

“Have ya tried asking Mark about Ylidomda? I think there might have been other, formidable purifiers like her. Jaguadarte is one such name that comes to my mind.”

“I might do that. Thank you, Mr. Huaso.”

“Ah… yer welcome, ya jock.” he pulls the phone away from his ear, before something crosses his mind, soon talking to the speaker again. “Anythin’ else? Do ya want Pure an’ I to keep an eye out for her, too?”

“Maybe… yeah… that would be a good idea. Although you don’t have to.”

“I’ll save yer number once ya hang up. Take care then.”

Once 81 bids goodbye, the harbringer looks at the number, and saves it. As he settles back into bed, he starts to ask himself what Pure is up to.

Whatever it is he’s doing just outside the tent, it has a familiar scent to it.

He decides to let him have some time alone.

~~

Huaso had to time his calls perfectly.

He called Theodore, and told him to grab Fred and come over for dinner at Flo’s place, and that the doctor in question will be the one to tunnel them there.

He called Flo on his lunch break, and asked if there is anything he wants made for dinner. He also updates his friend on how the two purifiers will be ready for pick up at around sundown.

With the calls over and done with, he packs up the tent and sets off with his friend to squander the daylight hours. A little bit of purifying the abundance of fauna never hurts. It’s not like the ecosystem is eternal in the Unload File. Huaso is quick to pick up that his coordination with Pure is getting better by the hour.

Come lunch time, Pure looked relatively uncomfortable.

Noticing this, Huaso sets the half cooked steak aside and walks to him. “Hey, Pure? Could ya take a knee, please?”  
Once the knight does as he’s asked, the sick inhabitant rests his hands on the other’s shoulders. “How are ya doin’, buddy?”

“I’m… nervous?” Pure glances away. “My skin feels prickly and my heart races…”

“Yeah, that’s what it means to be nervous.” He rubs a shoulder, trying to calm the other down.

“Eddie left them without a word, much like he left you. Didn’t he?” Pure asks, eyes twitching as he tries reading the expression on his friend’s face.

“I guess. It was… it was all very abrupt.”  
Huaso pauses, leaning close as a hand moves to rest on the back of the other’s neck. “But in spite of everythin’, it’ll all be okay. You’ll be fine. Jus’ remember to keep yerself in check.”

“I’m still nervous… I don’t feel like eating.”

“I know…”

Seeing his friend getting worked up over something menial is making him nervous now.

“Can I promise ya somethin’?” Huaso asks, pausing until the knight nods, “I’ll keep my eyes an’ ears open at all times while the brothers are over. An’ I’ll do my darndest ta make sure nothin’ outta this’ll head south.”

~~

The closer to dinner time, the thicker the tension hung in the air.

Pure could feel his heart race shortly after arriving back in the town of the birds, following Huaso up the winding path to Flo’s home. He wanted to hide, he wanted to fly away and do something else. But this is unavoidable. And furthermore, his nightmares will continue to haunt him until he clears this hurdle. He couldn’t even lie down on the couch once they had arrived and Flo answered the door. The brothers are not here yet, but the doctor was just about ready to go fetch them. Huaso had to start cooking dinner; gloves on to avoid contaminating the food with the claws, or what little of it that has regrown.

“Huaso? Can you come sit with me, please?”

Was that a whimper catching in his tone?

With a soft sigh, Huaso postpones his cooking, walking over and sitting on the couch, right next to the knight. He leans against the other as he feels a hand tug at him to sit closer.

Ten minutes tick by.

Just as it felt like a feeble plastic sticky tape could snap at any moment, the cracks in a barren wall form, and Florence steps out.

Followed shortly by two baseball players, one of which had the snout of a crocodile, or maybe it was a swan? Pure couldn’t tell.

The two visitors lock eyes with the knight.

Leaving a niche in the ice, Huaso clears his throat.

“Boys, it’s nice of ya t’ come over. I’ve explained it once before, but Eddie doesn’ remember everythin’. So in the meantime; Pure, this is Theodore and Fred. Theodore an’ Fred, this is Pure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, I will be going on an internet hiatus. I dunno when I'll get back on, but it does tie into the chronic headaches I keep getting. I still got this entire fiction written out, but as for other things... I've lost interest in writing or even roleplaying.
> 
> I could do with a break from the computer in general. If I'm not in pain, I will continue posting a new chapter per fortnight, rather than weekly. I'll see you around!
> 
> Take what you will, but nothing lewd, other than a coerced grope, happened.


	11. Not Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some old habits die hard.  
> Unfortunately, the old habit that Fred was looking for didn't just die: It was formatted.
> 
> And another piece of the puzzle returns in the land of sleep.

That smell. That expression. That is definitely traits of his big brother.

But his soft spoken tone and passive attitude just rubs at him wrong. The fact that Eddie didn’t recognize them right off the bat didn’t sit right. The older brother had gone and fucked up, and he had waited _this_ long to find out about the results. His younger brother, Ted, warned him about this. He asked him not to lose his temper, and just behave, for at least they will be getting a free meal tonight.

Fred can’t keep promises. He’s going to push buttons, see if he can get the big lug to respond. Although, he would like to find the fool that did this to Eddie. But before he does that, he’s going to catch up with Huaso, who is in the kitchen prepping dinner and already getting more than several slabs of meat on the pan.

Now where to start…

“Can I help ya, Fred?” Huaso asks, not looking up from the few steaks he is cooking. Normally, it’s a lot more entertaining to sit back and watch Flo use a flamethrower to incinerate hanging pieces of steak in a room, at a safe distance.

“Yeah, you can help me by answering this, quack!” Fred answers in his usual whisper, loud enough to hear still, “Are you _sure_ that thing in the living room is my brother?”

“If yer gonna keep askin’ that question, I’m sorry t’ break yer bubble, but that is Eddie.” the ex-miner grunts, using tongs to turn the steak over, “I was in denial as well. But that look, the energy that I can smell? All Eddie. That fuckwit, Borbo, further confirmed this.”

“How would Borbo know about this?”

Huaso heaves a sigh as the monster purifier asks.

“Because he did this to him. Erased his memories, amplified his power to dangerous degrees, and rendered him incapable of thinking for himself. At least, back when he was under Borbo’s control. Now, I know what yer thinking; ‘I’m gonna go find this sonofabitch, an’ give ‘im a piece of my fuckin’ mind.’ Good luck with that, I already did it. But he’s immortal, he’ll shrug it off by next respawn. All that did to me was leave me feelin’ painfully deflated.”

After a moment’s thought, Fred went with the next question that came to mind.

“Is Borbo edible?”

A snort erupts from Huaso, using a sleeve to stop himself from snickering onto the cooking food.

“I doubt it. Would taste like ashes in an urn. Not only that, he has scrap metal on his head, I doubt that’ll go down a treat.”

Fred smiles. He could always try, next time he sees the person who did this to his brother.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Steaks. Lots of peppered steaks. An’ a hearty side servin’ of veggies f’ everyone sans myself.”

“I think I’ll add greens to my plate, too.”

~~

While Huaso is cooking the meat, Flo prepping and cooking some veggies, and Fred talking to said inhabitant friends slaving away in the kitchen, Pure remains seated on the couch.

The nervous feeling had started to die down as soon as he and Ted began talking to one another. The Batter asks just how much the knight remembers, to which Pure confesses about the dreams. About how they have been haunting him, and how it has generally left him with all manners of confusion. He’s not sure if they are really his or not, but the way it beckons at his soul, his very essence, is undeniable.

Pure then asks what Ted and Fred have been getting up to in the meantime. Turns out, whenever they had the time to spare, they would have been out and about looking for Eddie as well. But the longer he went missing for, the more help Fred needed to stay on the very brittle road of the straight and narrow. This includes staying out of trouble, leaving the inhabitants alone, and keep fuck ups to a minimum. Even Fred’s girlfriend, Gnome, had been over a lot more frequently to help look for Eddie, but also be a presence that the monster swan really needs in his life. None of them thought about calling up a harbringer to take them to the Unload file, but they did regularly stay in contact with Huaso to see if there had been any updates.

The knight looks down. Eddie had up and left, and if he is, or _was_ Eddie, then the guilt was back once again. He perks up when he feels a hand on his knee.

“You might not be the same, but I will agree with Huaso; at least he found you before you fucked up big time.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

That was new. Ted tilts his head. “How did I fuck up?”

“I saw it in one of the dreams I had. You tried to purify me once, mistaking me for a spectre.”

“It happened. And I was punched for it.”

“B-But I did it in self defense.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Pure grins at the Batter. While Huaso has said that the memories within the dreams have been true, it was nice to get a second voice in the matter, one that has been there and done that with him.

“I’m sorry if I left so suddenly, but… I don’t remember why I did.”

“Then don’t be. Until you know why, it’s not entirely your fault.”

~~

The smell of food cooking was inescapable in Flo’s home. As soon as dinner was ready and being served, everyone, sans Huaso, was seated at the table.

Pure had his helmet off, eyes directed at the food on his plate. It looks delicious, it smells better than it looks. And yet, he still couldn’t find it in himself to start eating.

Not with Fred watching him with a keen interest.

Once the middlest purifier is done clearing his plate, and emptying his mouth, he begins to grin. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Not hungry…” Pure mumbles. It was easy reconnecting with Ted, but not with his younger brother. White Batter, who has been with him through thick and thin so early in life. Even if he was an ache in his side.

Taking this as an invite, Fred reaches over to snatch the knight’s plate, when Ted reaches over and grabs his wrist.

“You had your fucking share. And if you’re still hungry, Huaso is already cooking more for you.”

“But you heard him. He’s not hungry!”

“And you can wait.” Ted quips back.

Pure only watches the interaction between the two brothers, and can’t help but feel that Ted is trying to emulate the hole Eddie has left behind. But he’s quiet and kind of aloof; his lecturing isn’t going to be as effective.

“Maybe I could try the local inhabitants. Quack quack quackity quack!”

“No, you wouldn’t. The avians are not your typical Elsens; they will wallop your ass before you can snap your jaw on them.” Flo interjects.

“Then maybe I should go for the easiest meal here!”

“You will do no such thing-!”

“Unless you get onto fixing this mess that is my older brother!”

The household goes silent.

Pure slow blinks.

Fix him? How is Flo going to be able to fix him?

“You studied essence at one point, yes?” Fred growls low. And if the doctor had to be honest, it sounded scary. “Fix his essence, restore his memory!”

“I c-can’t! I’m Health, not Life or Death! They’re better suited for this job than me, a-and tampering with the essence is risky-!”

“I. _Don’t._ **_Care!_** ”

“But **_I_ ** do.”

Pure had sat back and seen enough. Now it is his turn to stand from his seat, a hand reaching over and gripping the monster’s wrist that had Flo in its grasp.

“I don’t know what you think of me Fred, but if there’s one thing I want to get off my chest now, it’s this; I don’t want my soul to be fuckin’ tampered with. I’m vaguely aware of how dangerous I am, and the last thing I want happening here is me losing my temper.” Pure’s lenient grip tightens briefly around the younger purifier’s hand. Other than that, he kept his voice level, calm, reasonably quiet for indoors, but also with a heavy undertone of menace. “I’m not going to ask you this again Fred; fuckin’ stop, let Flo go, and sit your fucking ass down. I catch you bullying him again over something he can’t help us with, you’ll be sent to ER with no recollection of the events that transpired last week. _Do I make myself fuckin’ clear?_ ”

Although the monster purifier is more accustomed to, and subsequently misses Eddie’s roaring temper and threats of being punched at, this is equally scary. He relents with a shiver, returning to his seat.

Huffed, but satisfied, Pure sits down. His appetite returned to him. During his gentle but threatening hold on the brother’s wrist, he could tell the pulse was racing just as much as his own.

Fred swallows. He wanted to get a reaction, but not like this. To break the tension, he asks in his usual whisper, “How much do you remember?”

“I remember enough to know who you are to me. Both you and Theodore. My primary problem I believe is that I lack appropriate emotions that tie to the events of the past. The experience is fleeting, and it can only provide me with so much… but it has also made me realize something too; forgetting is painful, and it’s a very dear price to pay, especially when you might never remember it ever again. If I lost these memories because Lenny wiped them right off my essence, then I’m afraid what would happen if someone less experienced, just as Flo pointed out, had a go to try and restore these memories the hard-wired way. If he fucks up, not only will this progress I have thus far be lost, I could be irreversibly fucked up to the point of catatonia. That’s worse than staying in a coma, isn’t it?”  
Pure pauses and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. “Though made of flesh and bone now, I am still artificially built. If someone was to take me apart, will there be an essence inside?”

“What did I miss?”

Huaso grunts, taking Fred’s empty plate away and replacing it with a full plate of well cooked steaks.

“Not a whole lot.” Flo replied. He could see the reasoning had its desired effects on Fred, who seemed to be in deep thought as he resumed eating his new set of steaks slowly now. “We tried to rile him up, but… I guess it could say it broke the ice? Not the way Fred intended it to break, though.”

“I’m sorry, was I supposed to respond differently?” Pure asks, half his food on the plate already gone.

“Quack.”

“Don’t fuckin’ start.”

_‘…Close enough.’_

~~

Fred’s last few fuck ups had only upset Ted, but it didn’t bring the oldest back. It wasn’t until recently did the middlest realize that.

By the time the cake was served, Huaso could then, and only then, begin to enjoy his share of steak that he saved to cook for himself last. It’s nice to hear the three brothers bonding again, albeit it is still a messy tangle. And one of them still isn’t all there. It’s dysfunctional, but they work best when they stick together.

Huaso’s heart sinks at this realization; once it is home time, Pure will not be able to follow them back. Much like pestilence himself, he is trapped in the Unload file.

“Well that’s stupid, isn’t it?” Fred quacks, “Who’s this U-Gore? I want to demand that he lets you come back with us.”

Pure shakes his head. “It’s not worth the fuckin’ risk. I’ve accepted my fate to be locked down in the Unload. I acknowledge that you both have grown up heaps in my absence, and I couldn’t be any more proud of you two than I already am… if that’s the feeling I’m experiencing right now.”

The trio resume talking, still trying to catch up, establish new bonds and fix old ones. Or as much as the available memory could allow him to. But what he can’t remember means there is room to make new memories.

“I have an idea!”

Flo chimes, clasping his hands together, “How about I host dinner every fortnight? That way you can still keep in touch physically?”

“More free food? Quack!”

“And we still have our phones if you ever want to talk to us.” Ted adds, “Huaso has the phone after all, doesn’t he? He’s got our contacts on it.”

Pure still sounds as though he is lost in a deep fog to Fred, but this is the best they got in terms of progress. Imagine what would have happened if they met the big guy at an earlier date, before the dreams started to infiltrate and plague the knight.

“Want a hug?”

Pure glances up from the floor just as Fred asks the question. He looks at his hands, his arms. He has shoulders, but at the same time, he doesn’t have those rainbow halos bangled around his wrists. Can he be trusted to hug the two brothers?

“Ye-? Maybe? A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, actually.” Ted speaks up, getting up and hugging the monster swan. Both brothers then turn to look at the knight.

It’s almost like that dream again. Except this time Pure isn’t Eddie. He is still a knight, he is still a weapon without a trace of anamnesis to his past. And yet, he’s… afraid? Afraid that he will lose them again should he close his eyes for a brief second?  
Swallowing the nervous feeling of déjà vu, Pure stands from his spot on the couch, approaches the two, and wraps his arms around them. There’s a moment of silence between the three. He could feel both Fred and Ted accommodate him into their group hug. He almost wants to purr… As soon as that thought crosses his mind, the hug ends. Pure takes a sheepish step back, but the lingering warmth in his chest remains.

“I… think I really needed that.” he admits quietly, scratching a cheek while a small blush is present.

“I think we all needed one, after so long.”

“Quack.”

“Fuck… why is it raining?”

~~

While no further tears were shed, it was still a despair filled farewell. Although Pure did ask that, next time they come over, if Fred can refrain from bullying Flo again. Even it was a failed ploy to get a response.

With the day now fully escaping them, the zombie and the knight sleeping over at Flo’s place is the only option. While the doctor is out helping the two brothers get back home, Pure helps clean up around the kitchen and dining room while Huaso washes the dishes.

“How are ya doin’, Pure?” Huaso asks, getting finished with washing the cutlery.

“A whole lot better now than I was before.” Pure responds, his voice back to his usual, soft-spoken self, “Did I get nervous over nothing?”

“It’s normal to git a little nervous, Pure. I’m glad ya handled it well.”

It was also after the outbreak that Pure feels really tired and, at the time during dinner, really hungry. Maybe he has worked himself hard during the day just trying to ignore that anxious feeling.

He might sleep well tonight, and cuddle his little friend too.

\--

_He’s back._

_He’s back, floating in the void. He knows this. He’s been here the past two times._

_Pure looks around. Where is that ball of light?_

_Usually, it’s right there, in front of him._

_That’s when he feels it, a tug on his essence._

_Turn around._

_And it’s there. He still has to float closer._

_Once more, as he reaches out to touch it, the ball bursts, temporarily blinding him._

_\--_

_“COME AND GET SOME, IMPURE FUCKS!”_

_Pure finds himself riled up, surrounded by eight common spectres. Fists clenched, he charges into battle._

_His temper was already foul after a particular argument with his brothers again._

_His tail thrashes shortly before throwing the first punch._

_He is able to take out three of the spectres before the remaining five synchronized their attack, catching him by a flank and taking him completely off guard._

_This sends him flying._

_His back hits the wall, causing him to black out for a moment’s worth._

_\--_

_The dizzy spell wears off._

_Pure blinks, trying to get a sense where he is at._

_All he sees is the purple ceiling of the mines._

_And someone looking down at him, with concern._

_An inhabitant._

_With red goggles._

_“Fuckin’ ow…”_

_Right away, he sees this inhabitant frown with a pout, hands on his hips._

_What?_

_Fuckin’ what?_

_Pure frowns, holding his head_

_“The fuck you looking at, asbestos flaking moleman on a dead-end job with fuck all better to do?”_

_The inhabitant responds, telling him to watch his tongue._

_And furthermore, take a look at the impact he left behind._

_A white claw points at a dent in the wall._

_Pure looks at it._

_Shit… okay, maybe he is at fault here?_

_Pure closes his eyes, and looks away in shame. Is that the feeling?_

_\--_

‘This weirdo really does like keeping to himself, huh?’

_He softly punches the dent, testing how malleable the wall really is._

_It is warm._

_After being hit that hard, and perhaps forgetting to phase, no wonder why it dented under the impact like it did._

_It didn’t take long for Pure’s mind to wander back to the inhabitant working away in the room._

_He didn’t look like the others._

_Grey overalls._

_A mining hat with a black band._

_Red goggles, which smelled a little funny._

_Flaking skin._

_And burnt claws which, for some reason, are white instead of black._

_By the smell, this inhabitant is a Valzong Burnt._

_But don’t those fuckers hang out in Bismark?_

_The inhabitant stops._

_Pure closes his eyes and turns his head away. He wasn’t looking, no sir!_

_How long had he been staring at the other’s backside-er, overalls?_

_Yeah, overalls._

_The unwell worker has some nice overalls._

_\--_

_Pure feels slightly warm in the chest as he continues to look away._

_What is this feeling?_

_It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since…_

_Not since before his break up with…_

_He hears a question._

_“Say, uh… what’s yer Grade?”_

_“Huh?”_

_What’s his Grade?_

_Like, Class and Grade?_

_That’s easy! It’s--!_

_Before Pure can respond, something causes the metal to split overhead._

_The slab is falling right over the inhabitant._

_Wasting no time, Pure launches himself towards the other, using his hands to shove the other out of the way._

_Right before he is crushed, he registers the inhabitant’s face._

_\--_

_Oh. He’s not out cold yet._

_It feels a little heavy, with it resting on his back. But it’s not the worst thing he’s had to deal with today._

_He’s out here because of a scuffle with his brothers, after all._

_Reminding himself to phase in this moment, Pure pushes his head through the slab._

_The inhabitant was genuinely worried for him._

_So Pure grins._

_He’s fine! See?_

_The inhabitant gives a small sigh of relief._

_It was also in this instance that Pure forgets how to phase._

_\--_

_This steak is banging!_

_But it is missing some pepper._

_And herbs._

_The inhabitant, having introduced himself as Huaso, says he doesn’t know what herbs are._

_Or pepper for this matter._

_“Now this, this is some good grub. Could you tell me how you hit that nail on the head?”_

_Pure asks, mouth half empty since the first bite._

_He smiles as he listens to Huaso talk._

_They chatter. Pure didn’t catch all of it, but it sounds like he’s retelling his events done in Heaven._

_And photos._

_Lots and lots of photos._

_He scoots closer to show them off, but fails to realize that Huaso’s eyesight is poor._

_\--_

_Those same damn spectres are back, and they have brought along new friends._

_Pure fights them off alone, initially._

_So he’s amazed when Huaso starts fighting back as well._

_Before he could relax, more of the ectoplasmic menaces show up._

_“Oh, that’s_ fuckin’ _perfect! Twelve against two? BRING IT ON, FUCKERS, YOU’RE ALL OUTMATCHED!”_

_\--_

_Well, this is awkward._

_To Huaso._

_But not to Pure._

_This close, while resting on Huaso, Pure can really appreciate how cute he looks._

_Even if he is grumpy._

_“Uh… hi.” Huaso says, probably to get a location on his face._

_Yes. So cute._

_Pure isn’t aware of the small blush on his cheeks._

_“You smell like strawberries.”_

_Before the purifier’s complement could be registered, Pure follows it up with a lick._

_On the inhabitant’s cheek._

_This causes the other to almost sputter out a protest, alarmed at the act._

_“What, w-why’d ya go do that? Ya could git sick!”_

_“Fuck you, I’m already dead.”_

_Pure could feel his tail slowly wag as he responds._

_Huaso continues his protest._

_He wants to get up and resume work._

_The purifier refuses, instead moving his body to gently coil around the other._

_Making it hard for Huaso to get back up._

_He also hugs the other to keep him warm and comfortable._

_When both are set to go to sleep at night, Pure fetches the earplugs._

_If Huaso uses sound to see in dark places, he’s going to need it._

_Before both finally nod off to sleep, Pure even offers his tail for the other to play at._

_\--_

Pure slowly blinks the sticky eyelids open, taking a moment for his fatigued and confused mind to soak in his current environment.

It’s Flo’s home. So, it’s not the mines, or the inside of their shared tent?

What was that dream about? It had Huaso in it. It started with the void, and popping another ball of light.  
The last two times it has happened, both Huaso and Ted have confirmed the events in those dreams as true. Would that dream have been about the first time Eddie met Huaso?

And speaking of Huaso, his little friend…

Pure begins to wonder about the significance of the role his friend played in Eddie’s life. It could also be why he feels hollow, like he is missing something, whenever Huaso isn’t around. He closes his eyes again, recalling how livid he felt, even before he crashed into that dead end. And after he hung around long enough for him and Huaso to start talking, how he started to feel an inlet of happiness trickle into his essence.

Happiness that Eddie, at the time, didn’t know he was lacking at this point in his life.

Pure begins to purr, gently grabbing his sleeping friend, and moving him until he was resting on his chest. He can’t help but nuzzle into Huaso’s pale, messy hair.

~~

“Hey Pure? Take a knee, please.”

The knight happily obliges, kneeling down on one knee. Sometimes he gets the impression that Huaso doesn’t always have to say ‘please’. But it never hurts to adore the other’s kind heart and politeness in those simple little requests, or even commands. He smiles when he feels the other wrap his arms loosely around his neck.

“How are ya doin’, buddy?”

“I’m doing well, thank you for asking.” Pure replies, quiet but honest as ever.

Today has been a rather hard day. The ghouls are out in force in the boreal forest, and the avians were having a bit of a rough time keeping those, and other volatile fauna, at bay. So today is spent clearing out swaths of the dangerous adversaries.  
Generally, it’s been a good work out.

“What about you?”

“I’m fine, Pure. Thanks for yer concern.”

Oh, he hasn’t returned the hug yet!

A little disappointed in the delay, Pure fixes this, setting his bat down and wrapping his arms around the other. He could feel the engineer purring as he does this, but he could also hear his own purr. Huaso is smiling at him. It’s a small smile, but it’s enough to make him want to smile in return. His pale eyes rest on the red goggles. Despite the murk in the way, he can tell the other is looking at him. With what emotion, he can’t exactly tell. But it’s surely something good.  
…There’s that attraction again. Not the one where any greenhorn Purifier would follow the corrosive pull that any seasoned Harbringer has, but that same warm bloom he felt in his dream. It’s almost drawing him in close. Pure didn’t realize how close his face was to the other until Huaso closed the gap with a soft kiss. While it did catch him by surprise, a little, he’ll admit that he was looking to do the same thing. He just wasn’t sure how to start it. With the warmth in his chest growing stronger, a blush blooming on his cheeks, his eyelids close half way as he presses back into the kiss.

What is this feeling? He really likes this, and he would like to feel more of it. But what if he is overstepping his boundaries? His little friend had his heart broken before by Eddie. By him. Should they pursue this?

Huaso had a feeling that the purifier had another dream last night. During the times spent clearing out some of the ghouls, Pure has been taking extra care to pay attention, and act accordingly, unfailingly. The last time he was this alert was after the engineer’s little outburst on the beach, with Mishca, and when it caused Pure to look over the shower stall. As well as his refusal to leave his side, or out of ear shot, or out of eyesight.

A hand rose, gently brushing Pure’s cheek. He could feel the other lean into it some, the purr rising in volume. A moment longer and the kiss broke. Pure seems to be blushing.

“I’m sorry, too soon?”

“N-No.”

The knight fights the urge to look away, offering a small, sincere smile.

“I just wasn’t expecting it. A-Although I had thought about kissing you.”

“Ya did, huh? Sorry I closed the gap, then.”

Why does Huaso have to be sorry?

Pure gives his friend another peck.

“Don’t be. I liked it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who got to read prior to the posting of this chapter: Sorry for the retcon.
> 
> Originally, I was going to have Pure snap, and rant. But as this story has pointed out more than once; he is Eddie, but at the same time, is not. I was also going to reference an archive blog, but after talking to a friend, decided against. So the amount of reference has been quashed as well, too.
> 
> I am still going to post every two weeks now while I try and find my writing muse for additional stuff.


	12. A Tower of Bleached Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of broken and lost data still falls upon the Unload.
> 
> A Zone 2 that's larger than normal is what the two travelling companions discover.  
> And then some.
> 
> It's enough for Pure to take the lead, let alone do something Eddie hasn't done in a long time.

This area appears to be bleached entirely. But it's the shroud of a thick fog that makes it hard to navigate. A little echolocation can still help getting around.

Huaso held Pure’s hand in his own, clicking his tongue as they both took cautious steps forward. The warmth from the knight seeping in through the regrown sugar on his hand felt reassuring. The search to look for a place to call home has resumed, with keeping an eye out for Ylidomda being a close second. Neither the engineer nor the knight can be certain if they are able to find her.  
The feedback from the latest echo meets his ears, and he stops. He feels Pure squeeze his hand briefly as he comes to a standstill himself.

“What is that?” he asks, directing his gaze upwards at the tall building.

Huaso continues to click his tongue as he does the same.

“It looks like… a library from Zone 2.”

~~

Indeed, it was. And then some.

It was larger than the standard measurements that Huaso learned to memorize in the past. The doorways were a hint broader, but Pure still had to duck to get through them. At least he isn’t made to crawl. While the inside walls were equally bleached, it was still relatively dark.

Being inside a library, taking a seat and reading books would have been inevitable. Which is exactly what Pure did. He would sit and wait, with Huaso fetching a book with his headlamp on, and they would read through it together.

There were some additional lore in regards to the hollowed remains of this zone. Some topics were challenging, some were engaging. When one book is done, Huaso would get up and fetch the next one while the knight remains seated. There’s a chill in the air, but if there had been any spectres around, they made no move to bother the two.

Spurred on by the excitement of reading any books, Pure’s hunger for some knowledge fueled his curiosity. Once all the books that could be read on this floor were done, they moved up the stairs to the next. By late at night, they had nearly completed reading all the real books on floor three.  
With every long, new, hard word Pure stumbles upon, Huaso would pronounce it with him, sometimes giving an explanation to what this word means. At approximately eleven in the evening, Huaso was starting to nod off while seated in the other’s lap, his headlamp still on.

He is roused again from a hand on his chest, gently nudging him.

“Pure… it’s…” he pauses to give a long yawn, “It’s late. How about we hit the hay, an’ resume climbin’ the library tomorrow?”

“I know.” Pure’s response is quiet, solemn, as he looks at his sleepy friend, “Thought I would say good night to you, since I’m quite happy where I’m seated. You look happy where you are, too.”

Huaso instinctively reaches up to rub his hand against his eyes, but when sugar met glass instead of eyelids, he stops himself before he leaves a scratch.

“Alrighty, t-then…” he pauses to yawn, glancing up at Pure, “G’nite, buddy. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

He hears a tongue click, halting his action from looking away to get comfortable, his attention on his friend’s face.  
Just in time to find a soft kiss pressed to his mouth.

“Good night, Huaso.” Pure purrs, glad that his friend didn’t blush from that too much. Content with the world, and his head full of new words while his thoughts still hold a desire to read, he fixes his hug and settles to nap in the chair he is sitting in.

~~

“Of all the places to run into you two, I didn’t think sleeping in a seat on the third floor of a library would be it!”

An enthusiastic, maybe sarcastic voice cuts through the fatigue like a sharp blade in the vat of darkness. Huaso jolts with a snort, looking around wildly before he follows the echoes. His goggles land on the one person he did not want to see again.

Borbo.

Thankfully, due to their earlier scuffle, the harbringer of pestilence felt no motivation to make another attempt on the washed up harbringer’s life.

“The fuck brings you here?” Huaso growls, scooting to stretch. His movements did eventually wake the sleeping knight up.

“The same reason you and your friend are doing here; borrowing books and getting lost in them. At least it’s brain food for him.” Borbo points, the eyes in his visor set to glee.

Between then and now, Pure has grown to understand why Huaso hates this man. And how this hatred has jumped to 81, Mark, Fred, and even Florence. He stretches, his wings giving a shudder.

“Aren’t books amazing?” Borbo asks, approaching the two, “You don’t know what’s inside of them until you open it up. The saying stands true; don’t judge a book by its cover.

“What the fuck do ya want?”

“I want to sit down and tell you a story.”

As he answered, he sat down across the table from them, eyes half lidded.

“I know you two just woke up after half a night reading, but please, do open your ears.”

Pure crosses his arms, a frown forming on his face. But he remains silent.

“There are many, many mortals out there who wish for immortality. ‘Oh, what it would be like to live forever~!’ I hear a lot of fools say. They have no idea what they are wishing for. The best way to live in eternity is through the memory of those around them. To live, without an end, is not living at all. Death exists for a reason; to end one chapter and begin the next, or to finish one’s life book entirely. I know this, for I was Death once upon a time. But in order to carry out my job as that Harbringer, I lost the right, the _privilege_ , to perish myself. Providing an extension of time past one’s expiry date is not a miracle, but a call for mercy that I very rarely answer to. When you have lived for 500 or more years, you become jaded with everything. Nothing is a challenge anymore. I am simply burnt out from just being here. I will admit; my infancy years of under fifties weren’t exactly clean or stainless. I know the crimes I have committed, one of which instigated by my significant other who used me. And I don’t recall for the past lifetimes of me as to whether I’m sorry for my actions or not.”

The former harbringer pauses, letting this sink in. He’s surprised when he is offered some Moloch Jerky.

“I don’ care if ya can’t eat. But it’s breakfast time.” Huaso shrugs, digging into his. “Do go on.”

Borbo takes a moment, watching the two dig into their breakfast food of choice. Pure Knight will eat Mida’s largely grown apples? Who would have thought?

“Books and challenging video games are an escape from this endless reality I am trapped in. It lets me believe, for even a moment, that I exist somewhere else. That I can die, that I can hit a permanent game over. That it can be curtains for me.”  
Borbo looks up from his momentary lapse of lament at the engineer. “If I do come off as completely callous, nonchalant, and disrespectful towards life and the universe, that’s on me. I have seen too much, I want off. But in this life of immortality, it never ends. However, I hear you. _I fucking hear you_ when you asked ‘where was I?’ when you needed Death most. You won’t live as long as me, but until that time comes to disintegrate into dust, your body will work against your innermost desire to find your death wish. You are not alone; it’s true for all those classed as ‘best of their grades’.”

As Borbo went quiet, the lack of echoes meant that Huaso didn’t catch the man unlocking the mouth cover on his helmet, tossing the jerky inside his mouth and casually chewing on it after replacing the cover. The jerky is nice and soft. If Huaso’s presence was making him feel a little ill, it is gone now.

“You wish you were dead, pestilence? Me too. Where’s my death wish?” Borbo asks, ignorant of his former weapon’s scowl.

“ _…_ Have ya tried askin’ Mors?”

That left Huaso’s mouth without him thinking, all while he was digesting both his breakfast and too-long-listened-anyway version of Borbo making up excuses.

“That’s the name of Death the 4th?”

“Yeah. Apparently, they’re a busy individual, hailin’ from a place in the land of fifty stars, maybe. They’re friends with Lepi an’ Carbine, so either one of the two might be able t’ point ya in the right direction.”

That is some news. Maybe an end is finally coming into sight after all. Borbo could feel his bones enter a state of deadweight as he visibly looks deflated. Possibly for the first time in… well, Hell if he remembers!

“I… I guess I got some apologizing to do with the former.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. An’ if ya tell Mors of all the crimes ya committed an’ be the reason why this rottin’ tree ya complain ‘bout exists, I’m sure they’ll make it quick.”

Of course, Huaso’s voice will gain an edge of venom back in his words. Pestilence the 4th still has the right to reserve his hatred.

“I can see why Eddie fell for you.”  
Borbo stands from his seat, brushing off imaginary dust from his pants. “You really are good at being patient, aren’t you? Sitting down, lending an ear, offering a shoulder to cry on, and even try to ease the depressing weight from one’s neck when they really need it most. Everything Eddie needed to stop feeling like the lowest of the low, an inlet of happiness. I get to see it in action from you, even though I’m the most hated man in your book, and I deserve none of your temperance, rightfully so.” a moment's pause as he gauges the other harbringer’s face, “I can see your tolerance wane. I’ll leave you two be.”

He turns to leave. He’s said his peace. And with this new information, he will try and search for Death the 4th. If his death wish fails to register on their ears, then maybe he should look for another Purifier to weaponize.

“Hey, Borbo?” Huaso pipes up, “Next time ya weaponize a Purifier, make sure ya Wide Angle ‘em an’ check if they have a significant other first. Especially if that partner in question is wary of the 4th wall. Because _that’s_ where ya failed with me!”

A dry chuckle escapes Borbo.

“Giving advice to a fool who will use this to ultimately kill you, and everyone else caught in this cycle? Oh, right, you’re already looking for an out, how very selfish of you. I will _also_ keep that in mind.”

Huaso glanced away. _‘Caught me there. I would kick you in the balls, but luckily for you, I’m too much of a gentleman with etiquettes.’_

Pure frowns, getting up from his seat. At first, he seemingly looked like he was going to follow and see his creator off.

“Oh, are you here to bid me farewell?” Borbo chirps, his expression in the visor showing one of glee yet again. Eyes closed in a somewhat happy expression.

“You know what? Fuckin’ yeah, actually.”

Without warning, Pure stuck a leg out. More than that, the tip of his shoe nails the immortal fool right between the legs. He watches nonchalantly as the cold pain registers fast enough for Borbo to send his hands flying to the source of impact, lose his balance, and fall backwards down the stairs.

“You’re annoying. Fuck off.”

~~

“Pure, that wasn’t very nice.”

Huaso scowls softly the moment Pure kneels down without being told to do so.

“Why?”

“Because it just ain’t nice t’ nail a bloke in the balls. It ain’t polite either. That’s a very tender organ, an’ even I cringe if somethin’ happens to that. In combat, you’ll do well t’ keep it clean an’ avoid hittin’ a bloke there at all costs. But if they get a cheap shot at ya, _then_ it’s fair game.”

“In my fuckin’ defense, Lenny had it coming to him from a long way.”

Okay, Pure Knight has a point there. Huaso chuckles.

“I’ll let ya off the hook on this one, but don’ ya dare make it a habit in the future. Alrighty?”

The knight nods. He pauses when another thought crosses his mind. He overheard a couple of avians say that somewhere in the village.

“By the way…” Pure begins, getting back to his full standing height, “What’s ‘ligma’?”

Huaso pauses mid step, shivering as he looks over his shoulder at the other. “Also somethin’ in regards to balls. Don’ ask me again.”

~~

It might have taken them a few more days of climbing the library half way and reading all the readable books, but at some point Pure got bored and wanted to explore the surrounding area of the library. The residential area was as good a place as any to start. Looking around once through the front gate, nothing seemed out of place. But the hackles stood on the back of Huaso’s neck. Something smells off in the air.

Pure pulls down his visor, a red glow coming from one of the X shaped holes.

“This place is occupied by a scared but dangerous soul.”

Huaso shivers. He’s never seen the knight behave in such a tense manner. “What do ya think it is?”

“I don’t know. As tall as I am, I can’t see it from here. And flying to get a better view is out of the question.”

“So… we proceed with caution?”

Pure nods. One hand holding his bat, the other reaching over to grasp Huaso’s hand, they press deeper in the residential district.

~~

He remembers being here for as long as the walls have been bleached.

_‘The phantoms are gone…_

_The people are gone…_

_Everything is gone…_

_I am now forever safe.’_

The creature reassures himself as he finishes reading the page he is on. There is no one here. No one that he can’t hunt down anyway. He grabs a page between two beans of his paw and turns it over. He has the unfortunate trademark adorable face of an Elsen, but the mane and body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and quills of a porcupine covering his lower back.

As he picks up a scent in the air, he perks, ears folded, quills giving a quiver. As he takes in the scent, he gets to his feet. There is no mistaking it.  
That scent is the tarry smell of a Valzong Burnt, a phantom lacking considerate manners that emerges when an Elsen is stressed out. But not only that, it smells sick. Rotting.   
An anxious growl rumbles in his throat when he catches more on the wind; a purifier. But this one smells a lot stronger than the one that swept through his zone, slain the phantoms, but also executed their Guardian. A Guardian that, he will admit, they all turned their back on.

Neither entities held an aura of peace.

The last time someone came to visit him, the man with the blank canvas for a face turned him into this fearsome beast. It’s just a pity that he held too timid of a disposition to make the most of it, when dealing with other, powerful, sentient beings.

He bares his fangs with a nervous sneer. “W-Who’s there?”

~~

Huaso cringes, covering his ears. The sound of a two-toned voice has left him reeling, jarred from how his echolocation is thrown off kilter. Half of it sounds like an Elsen, and the other half something akin to an eldritch. Or maybe it’s an abomination.

“Are you okay?”

Pure is kneeling before him in an instant, the red glow in his visors vanishing for now.

“There’s someone here, P-Pure. But whatever it is, it’s thrown my hearing outta whack.”

“You’re reliant on sound, aren’t you?” Pure asks to be sure, getting a nod from his little friend, “How about I take the lead for now? Never hurts to be careful.”

~~

Getting nothing but a few mutters from the intruders, the manticore Elsen thought best to hide in his building.

Sure enough, the intruders wander into the residential town square. The sight of them caused his quills to bristle.

_‘No. No, no, no, no, no! This place is supposed to be safe, what is a phantom and a purifier doing here? Visitors? No, no, no, no! Trespassers! This place is no longer safe! It’s not safe with those two around! I have to get rid of them so that I can feel safe again!’_

What sounded like a shuddering wheeze of fear to the last resident also sounded like a lion’s growl to the knight and the harbringer. Pure stops, sticking a hand out.

“It’s here.” he says, solemnly, his gaze fixated on the safe house with its door wide open.

“Hhhh… please, please leave.” The manticore abomination growls as he prowls out of said shelter, mane flared and quills bristling, scorpion tail raised, “And don’t come back!”

**Suppression in progress…**

The dual tone left Huaso reeling again. This is definitely having a disorienting effect on him.

And Pure wasn’t going to stand for it.

**{Closing Salvation}**

The knight closes in fast, delivering several punches to the beast’s face.

Not the reaction he was hoping for. The manticore retaliated in response to having his proximity invaded with a snarl.

**{Toxicosis}**

The scorpion’s tail imbeds itself into Pure’s shoulder, but he seemingly shrugs it off, swatting it aside with his bat.

The snarl from the beast was quick to remind Huaso why he really can’t be of much help.

It is then that Miasma, his servant, begins to respond in his steed. The Valzong Ring, reworked with the appearance of a biohazard symbol, emerges from white smoke.

**{Square Eyes}**

A confused whine left the beast as he lost his sense of sight. He staggers backwards, a behavior similar to when a cat has something stuck on its face.

Pure seizes the chance to take action.

~~

It has been a tedious dance, but Huaso has been doing his best to maintain focus. And Pure has kept his energy output in check. But something seems wrong.

The manticore doesn’t know why he feels sick. It must have been done by something coming from the Valzong Burnt. Yes… that’s it. He steadies himself, tail poised, as he begins to charge. He needs to end this.  
 _He needs to feel safe!_

**{Autotoxemia}**

Pure intercepts the attack meant for Huaso, hissing as the tail embeds in his being once again. Personally, he’s been stabbed at enough times today, and he’s getting sick of it. Literally, and metaphorically. He grasps the tail and rips off the end.

A deafening roar left the beast’s mouth. His primary means of making others go away, crushed and severed. Provided that he lives long enough to regrow it. But even he doubts that. His little stunt has only riled up the purifier for a counterattack.

A retaliating slam from Pure was all it took to finish the frantic beast off. It gave out one last, mingled, pleading wheeze to leave its home before going still, save for the rise and fall of its chest.

**Adversaries suppressed.**

The ringing in Huaso’s ears begins to die down, relaxing from his rigid stance as Miasma evaporates into white smoke, awaiting next time for it to come out and help. As he straightens up, he picks up on the smell of poison.

Once his echolocation finally sorted itself out, he glanced over at Pure-- and just in time to see him fall to one knee, panting heavily. His wings shudder, and there are a few black and purple spots where he has been stabbed, many times, by the manticore’s tail.

“Pure!”  
The engineer is by his side in an instant, digging into his inventory. “Hang in there, buddy!”

Pure doesn’t feel too well. He feels sick. He feels cold, too cold. Normally, he can shake it off, or wear it while his body fights it off on its own. Not this time, he’s been stung more than once. Something feels seriously wrong, like he doesn’t have long to live. Admittedly, he’s starting to feel scared.  
A dizzy spell makes him wobble, collapsing to the floor before Huaso could finish fishing out an object that might help. He hears words, but they are muffled. He can’t comprehend anything, except that last bit before darkness overtakes his vision.

“Why didn’ ya tell me you were this intoxicated?!”

\--

_It’s cold. It’s too cold. Way too cold. Pure wants to be home, in the tent that’s larger inside than it is outside. He wants to be in bed, cuddling his friend._

_Where he is right now is nothing like it._

_He’s back in the void, and it’s cold._

_Icy._

_Freezing._

_Is it possible that he’s been left out in the snow and has been unable to open his eyes?_

_No, it’s not that he can’t open his eyes._

_He tries looking around, soon spotting a distant light. He flies towards it, but as he gets closer to it, he can tell this is not the light at the end of one’s life._

_Rather, it’s a ball. An essence._

_Pure frowns. Surely he has experienced something like this before…_

_It certainly looks familiar. Two-toned, with lavender and minty in color._

_He cautiously reaches out to touch it._

_When a finger makes contact, a warmth seeps into his arm, overriding the freezing sensation._

_Tears prick his eyes._

_How did he forget about this?_

_That’s the essence of his little friend…_

_It feels like home…_

_\--_

Pure grunts, feeling his senses return to him slowly as he stirs.

It’s dark outside. His head is resting on something, not entirely soft, but nothing too bony. Perhaps the lap of his friend? He can’t tell, he’s having trouble opening his eyes.

“Try not ta move. Ya took a lot of poison, more than yer body’s able t’ fight off.”

This is not the first time Huaso has seen someone get to this stage of ‘seriously fucked up’ when it comes to being poisoned. It happened after Eddie picked a fight with Pestilence, and it happened again when Pure took Autotoxemia right after another Toxicosis jab. Why did he do that? Was it because the engineer wasn’t able to tell him that he’s immune to poison and wouldn’t mind taking one or two jabs?

Then again, being disoriented left him in no shape to warn him about anything, no less concentrate.

The pot of Moloch’s stew is ready. He had to make sure all the solids didn’t really require a lot of chewing to ingest. But it also reminds him of the time Eddie took the hot pot in his bare hands, and just poured the lot down the hatch with barely a chew.  
Not the time to be distracted. He slips a hand under Pure’s chin, tilting his head up. “Here, try an’ sip this.”

Pure groans again. Did Huaso say something? His eyelids twitched, but were unable to open still. Everything feels heavy. At least he doesn’t feel cold anymore. As soon as the spoon pressed at his lips, followed by a warm liquid, he understood what Huaso was trying to tell him. It’s hot, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he took slow sips.

A bit at a time, Huaso would keep telling himself. At least getting the first spoonful worth of the broth is important, as it will start to fight off whatever poison the body has been unable to contain and vaporize. As he waits for signs of regained mobility, he puts the bowl down and starts petting the other’s hair.

~~

Half an hour. It was the longest half an hour for both of them.

By now, Pure had opened his eyes again. A few minutes more while the freezing sensation begins to recede from his limbs, and he has the urge to sit up. Finding the motivation to do so was another story.

“Jus’ take it easy, Pure.” Huaso chides, still petting his hair, and offering one full spoon at a time. As soon as the knight is able to feed himself again, the engineer helps him sit up, and pass the bowl and spoon to him to finish off what is left.

The broth didn’t just have Moloch’s meat, but also has onion, garlic, and ginger in it. And it tastes creamy. Pure takes it slow, to his friend’s word. It took another half an hour to finish it on his own.

“It’s a dumb question, but how do ya feel now?”

“Nnngh…” Pure looks down, “Terrible.”

“That would be my fault.”

“No, it fucking isn’t.”

“Yes, it is. Ya didn’ have to take hits for me like that. Sure, I couldn’ keep my head on straight because that thing spoke with two voices. But I should’ve told ya that I’m immune ta poison.”

“It’s because you were disoriented that I couldn’t let you take a hit.”

“Pure, don’ argue with me, please.”

That one command with kindness halts any further words Pure wanted to say in his throat.

“I appreciate it, I really, really do, but ya put yerself in dire straits five hours ago. I couldn’ bear ta lose ya…”

That confession made the knight’s heart sink.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around his little friend, and pulls him close for a hug. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to do that to you…” His embrace is reciprocated. He lets out a shuddering sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.

Pure couldn’t tell if he is still sick from the toxins, or from the guilt. He said he wouldn’t leave his friend behind. He would be going to a place his friend will not be able to follow if he acted on that reckless instinct again.

~~

Once Pure was able to stand without staggering from any dizzy spells, the two packed up camp and left the manticore to resume living in the residential district alone. The climb within the library resumes, having had enough excitement for one day outside of the tower.

Reaching the top, they expected the roof to be barren, devoid of life.

How wrong they were.

Sitting there was the familiar white cat, Coach.

Hovering next to him was a ball of light, shrouded in a cloud of spectral colors.

The latter held a familiar, powerful smell to Huaso.

He glances at Pure.

“Should we go an’ say ‘hello’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did Pure do?
> 
> He did an Eddie-tier dumb thing. Different looks, same actions.  
> If I'm in a good mood, I'll post the next chapter around Christmas Eve.


	13. A Punch of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coach gets his thoughts off his head to a dead purifier that has made her way to the top of the tower.
> 
> All this time spent together, and just now does Huaso realize what Pure means when he says 'One can only think, another can only act.'
> 
> Memories of the park ensure.
> 
> And a Rube Goldberg machine within a mall shows them the way to their next big adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an extra Early Xmas present. :)

Coach sat there, tail swinging from side to side.

He arrived, all alone, getting a feeling of déjà vu. From the many stories Huaso has told him, coming from many different files with mostly similar aspects; the library’s roof, Japhet’s roost, has been the murderous crime scene of many iterations of Valérie. It feels weird to be perched up here all by himself.

He wasn’t alone for long, soon catching the scent of a strong purifier. Or, at least, it smelled as such. He didn’t expect it to be a lost soul. An ear turns in her direction.

“May I help you? I’m not a good judge in character, but I can always point you in the right direction.” Coach greets.

“I think you can. I don’t know.” the essence responds, soon settling next to the feline. “I haven’t seen you around before. I’ve seen Pablo. Maybe… more than once. I don’t remember.”

“You’ve seen my older brother?”

The cat with the blue eyes looks at the essence, an ear pointed to the side.

“Yes. Although, the last time I saw Pablo, he was dying after being attacked by a purifier. I don’t remember the rest of the details, they’re all very fuzzy…”

Coach grunts with a nod, soon looking out at the grey clouds.

“Do you mind if I ramble? I got a few things on my mind to get off.”

“Sure, I don’t mind! I was looking to take a break anyway.”

A moment’s silence past, as Coach closes his eyes, trying to think about where to start.

“The rooftop of Bismark’s Library, Japhet’s pride and joy, his folly. It’s been a common place for iterations of myself to perish to. Or so, a dear friend has told me.” the feline begins, “And yet, here I am. I question whether I’m the first Valérie to have made it to the bitter end. I am not Pablo, and I am not the oldest. I am also less likely to cave into the death grip of insanity.  
“My friend has told me that each time an iteration perished, Pablo would be on the rooftop, meowing, asking if anyone has seen his brother. And if he keeps meowing into the void, sometimes, just maybe, he could hear Valérie meow back at him. But where I came from, something unprecedented happened; A virus broke out in Zone 3. Pablo’s other friend, Zacharie, went to investigate, and never returned. He got caught up in the Queen’s purification protocol. This led to Pablo leaving Zone 0 to come check in on me, before I made the fatal mistake of listening to the Guardian of Zone 2. He asked me to head home and wait for him to return. Much like the merchant, my older brother never did.”

Coach glances down, seeing the engineer and the knight reenter the library from the ground floor.

“It’s strange, though. Part of me wonders if I was meant to die like the others. I’m not as strong, nor as brave, nor as smart as my older brother. If a purifier went through all the trouble to purify the zones, reach The Room, answered the plea of the Creator, and approached the Switch, I wouldn’t have it in myself to stand up to them. I would be disrespecting the memories of my brother from other iterations. Yet, this is why I am here, in the Unloading.  
“The engineer was too formidable. Any time a new puppet in some kind of pajama uniform, of any sport, made their way to Zone 1, they would be distracted by the essence of a purely corrupted individual. It was too easy for them to conflate impurity with corruption. They would march onwards into an early grave. And in a rare instance that they decide not to fight the engineer and walk away, they too would get sick. The farthest that one purifier managed to reach on my home file was right before the Queen. Unfortunately, tuberculosis got the best of him. He perished after he saved, sat down, and took what he thought would be a couple hours of a nap.   
“Meanwhile, something was happening to the engineer’s significant other, incentivizing him to leave the file to go live with him. He told me, and Sucré who found the courage to stand in as the new merchant, that if he doesn’t return within six months, we are to just go ahead and flip the Switch. Six months go by. No new Purifier. The file was showing signs of degradation. The two of us stuck to his word, and we did what we had to do. The Creator gave up making new purifiers because they often got stopped too easily, one way or another.”

Coach looks down again. An ear still pointed at the ball of light.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Me?” the feline slow blinks, looking at the ball, “I came here because I was drawn to this place while exploring. It’s dangerous to do so, I know, but I wasn’t content guarding an imitation of Zone 0. If it’s true what he said about Pablo, that he mourns by meowing on the rooftop, maybe I should meow back at him and hope he hears me. To give closure. It’s a stupid thought. I mean, I’m drawn to what is essentially Valérie’s execution podium.”

“I dunno. Did your nomadic friend tell you that Valérie is usually long dead before the little birdy sticks his head out of the mouth?”

“I think he did, actually.” Coach begins to purr. He likes company whenever he can get it.  
“You say you don’t remember a lot. What’s your story, or what you remember so far?”

“I vaguely recall asking someone, someone strong and formidable ‘What are you doing?’ before the whole world went black. Next thing I know, I awake in some shelter. I wait at the platform, feeling my essence being beckoned at. Sometime later, a ghost with a familiar face joins me on the platform. We board the train, and sit together. We didn’t talk much.  
“The train stops again, and I believe the reaper themselves climb on board. They dressed in black, with a red ribbon tied in a way that looked like a little pinwheel, they lacked arms, and had piercing red eyes. They look at me, at the ghost, the ghoul hanging upside down on the ceiling near us, and that comic book guy sitting further to our left. They said that while I, specifically, had earned it after living for so long, there were still many things to be done. There were many things left unfinished. We were each given something, told to take a nap, and…”   
The essence gives pause, “We were supposed to go through a test in the catacombs of our dreams. Two succeeded, but I think the familiar ghost and I… failed? This left the ghost in a purgatory loop, but the ghoul and the comic guy vanished soon after. I can’t recall when I became a wayward soul.”

“It’s dangerous to be wandering the Unloaded File, either as a ghost or a ball of essence. You’re vulnerable like this.” Coach says, purring.

“Kitty, I’ve been a gas ball for as long as I can recall. Everything that made me physical broke down with time within that suit. Even if I got a new suit, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Which is why I call myself Coach nowadays. Ask me what it is you want to do, and I’ll try and point you in the right direction.”

The ball goes quiet. “Maybe… the best place to start is to listen to Death’s message. Learn from it, or forget about it… but at the end of the day there are still some unfinished business. Oh… if only I could remember. Silly little me.”

“Then your first order of business is to find someone with a Super Joker.”

“A Super Joker? I’ve heard of Red Jokers, Black Jokers, even Joker Poker, but never a Super Joker. What will a Super Joker do?”

“It will restore you to your previous state of living, regardless of how much time has passed since your time of death.”

“Will it have any effect on my memory?” the ball asks, hopeful.

“I cannot say.” Coach shakes his head, “But I don’t believe Sarah will have any to sell, even though she’s a ghost herself.”

The two acquaintances sit in silence, watching the scenery of the fog blanketing what remains of Bismark.

“Say, do you have a name?”

“I think… it’s a bit cloudy… Oh! It’s Ylidomda! My name’s Ylidomda!”

~~

Huaso had overheard enough.

He pulls out a Super Joker, and a piece of paper. He scribbles on the latter before sticking it to the card and leaving it on the rooftop. With a glance at Pure and a nod, the two start making their way back down. Once they leave the library, he’ll pull out his cell and update 81 on the situation.

From what he’s read from the books; Ylidomda is the Purificatory Incarnation of Smoke itself, given form. She has participated in an ancient war, which is where she has got her use of Mustard Gas from. Using this unfortunately has made her a war criminal. Continued use of this further solidifies the crime.  
She came into being when her creator, a pilot named Gary, accidentally brought her into existence while thinking of his dead girlfriend. The death of her creator had left her feeling haunted. Unable to cope with the grief, she turns to the Harbringer of Death at the time, begging him to erase her memories.

While the induced amnesia stuck fast, there were also momentary lapses where something or other breaks through, and Ylidomda would freak out.

This isn’t the first time Borbo has erased someone’s memory. But this is possibly the second time he has done so, and one way or another the suppressed memories have made their way back into the minds of the tampered soul.

While in thought, Huaso glances at Pure. He was sure, both himself and Borbo, that there was absolutely no trace of anamnesis left in the knight. The dreams that haunt him have slowly started to put back together what he once was, with one major flaw; Pure is still unable to connect to the past on an emotional level. Any emotions he experiences at the time in his dreams are as fleeting as the cinematography that plays in his REM sleep. What else will he remember the next time they go to bed?

“Is everything alright?” Pure asks, taking two brisk steps forward, turning on his heel, and kneeling before his friend again.

“Yeah, jus’… thinkin’.” Huaso responds with a nod.

If he ever were to lose Pure Knight before his time comes to move on, maybe he would do the same thing as Ylidomda. He would seek out Mors, or Borbo if he couldn’t get a hold of them, and ask either one to erase his memories.

He already lost Eddie. He lost his heart once before.

He doesn’t think he can go through it all again.

~~

_‘You will need this more than I do, Your Highness._

_Use this Super Joker provided, and do whatever it is you need to do. If not, give it to someone who could really use it._

_81, Zinzo, and Mark will be waiting for you in Region Uno.’_

Coach blinks, looking up from the letter. “They didn’t sign it, but it looks like the dear engineer’s handwriting.”

“Who is he? He sounds like a hard worker.”

“He’s the Elsen capable of making purifiers sick, though unwillingly so.”  
Coach’s tail gives one more agitated flick before it curls up around his feet. “So, Ylidomda… what will you do now?”

The ball hovers, as though contemplating her next move.

“I’m free to move on, but… I would, at least, like to see this unfinished business through before I return to that train station. This 81, Zinzo, and Mark might need to remind me once I find them.”

~~

“An’ with any luck, she should make her way back to ya.”

Huaso has been on the cell for fifteen minutes, the knight overhearing the one-sided conversation as he stares long and hard at a set of stairs leading underground, taunting them from across a bridge covering a strip of molten plastic.

“Alrighty. Best of luck to ya. Don’ become a knight on me now.” he chuckles, finally hanging up.

“What now?”

The engineer glances up at his friend at that question.

“Now? We check out the amusement park.”

~~

Of course.

When the land is purified, access to the park is inevitably closed off. An opened chest sits under the archway dotted with question marks.

_‘Ah shit… if only we had something to break the wall down with…’_

“Stand clear.”

A hand gently pushing Huaso backwards, and those words, are the only warnings he got before he watches Pure pull back an arm, and throw a punch forward into the bleached wall. A new hole bursts open as a result.

“Whoa, ho-how?” Huaso stammers.

“How, what?” Pure looks miffed, like he doesn’t recall what he acted upon just now, “How did I know to punch the fuckin’ wall in? I don’t know.”

“Nah, not that. Are ya, like, capable of readin’ my mind now?”

“To quote Borbo; ‘Let’s say there are two revolutionaries. One can only think, another can only act. They fight against the establishment. The thinker, one day, plants the seed of thought and the actor acts upon it.’ That’s what he said once before.” the purifier shrugs.

“So, a mind reader?”

“Maybe… but only to you, and only when an act is needed where it will count.”

Huaso stares at the hole in the wall in disbelief. Maybe he should watch his thoughts from now on. That could also explain why Pure kicked Borbo in the dick, just as he was thinking about it. Perhaps self restraint out of respect doesn’t apply to his friend?

“Pure, do ya think there’s a way t’ stop that from happenin’ again?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, why?”

“Because it jus’ ain’t right. That would be more Lepi’s thing.”

Pure takes a step inside past the rubble.

“Think of it this way; if your voice fails, you could always tell me to ‘Fucking Stop’ before I do something incredulously stupid, just by thinking so.”

~~

The pedalo maze is still around, but the boat is too small for Pure to get into. And all the prizes have been looted anyway.

The balloon popping game had a fresh batch of balloons waiting to go, but no one was there to host as the opponent. Huaso chose to explain the rules; pop one to three balloons, and don’t be that guy who gets stuck with the last one. With the engineer and the knight taking opposite ends, they took turns until, unfortunately, Pure is left with the last balloon. Interest piqued, he went ahead and popped the balloon anyway.

A piece of Abaddon’s meat has been found. Along with a small swarm of emperor butterflies that flew away once freedom was attained.

~~

“Merciful Mayonnaise…”

Huaso utters out once they enter the roller coaster section. Never, in all his undead years, has he seen a complete circuit of the roller coaster in any of the established Zone 2 amongst the files. It got his creative gears turning, and reinvigorated his desire to find a place to call home so he can replicate this.

Pure was already climbing the stairs, stopping half way to look back at his friend, still gawking at the abandoned attraction.

“Huaso?”

“Huh? C-Comin’! Holdup there, you!”

The two reach the top, finding the trains waiting patiently. Huaso frowns.

“Do ya think you’ll manage t’ fit?”

“Dunno.” Pure responds, peering into the empty ticket booth.

He stands up straight when the head of the manticore emerges in the empty booth.

“Hhh… sorry. I don’t know how you opened the park back up again.” Ah. At least the beast is talking at indoor volume.

“How much for a ride, fella?”

“It’s on the house… on the condition that you ride it only once.”

“Aw… I dunno. It might be a one-time ride if Pure here has trouble takin’ a seat.”

~~

Much like the library doors, the seats in the roller coaster were a hint bigger too. Even big enough for Pure to be able to sit in.

The manticore even left the ticket booth to help pull the restraints down, as Huaso had problems putting them down to himself and his friend. Once both passengers were secure in the train, the beast went over to the controls.

“The roller coaster looks and behaves dangerously, but hhh… it’s relatively safe.” he says, powering on the machine and waiting for it to warm up.

Pure looks over the tracks that he can see. This probably isn’t any different to him flying solo, and the ride won’t move as fast, but he can feel the anticipation. He glances at his friend, who is grinning ear to ear. Clearly, Huaso is looking forward to this.

“When we find a place to call home, will you build a roller coaster?”

“Maybe. Dunno if Manny there would want us to copy an’ paste though.”

With a hiss, the train is finally in motion. Huaso grips the brace, and Pure soon does the same.

Rounding a corner, the train catches onto the lift and is towed uphill.

“I don’t get it.”

“Maybe ya don’t, seein’ as yer capable of flyin’ at faster speeds than this. But ya’ll see when we reach the top.”

Once the train reaches the top, it finally clicks for the knight as to why the attraction provides such a thrill. He is not going to have any control as to where the ride goes. The slight suspension before the drop had him hold his breath, seconds before it finally happened. The train plummets, and he can’t help but throw his arms in the air.

Huaso lets out a “Wheeee-heeeyu!” as the train picks up speed. It went through a few turns, a sharp bank left, a right-leaning corkscrew, and a few floaty hills. It even went through a loop after another big drop. Throughout the ride, neither of them noticed a flash of the camera.  
Of all the Bismark iterations he has visited, this one takes the cake, simply because the circuit on this roller coaster is completed. Purified lands be damned!

~~

“Hhh-Here is your photo.”

The beast had no idea that these two dangerous fools would enjoy the ride so much. The faces they made when the camera took their photo was priceless. Nobody that he ever recalled made that face.  
Oh, right, where was he? He hands, or rather paws, over the photo to Huaso.

“Thanks, pardner.”

At the moment though, he can’t see the picture well. Guess he’ll have to wait until the next time he needs to clean his goggles.

Pure takes the photo and smiles.

This is his first photo since he awoke as a knight. And he looks like he was having the time of his life on the ride, alongside his little friend.

~~

There was one last place to explore, and it was the great mall labyrinth behind the library, opposite of the entryway.

As with the rest of the zone’s doors and seats, the entryway was large or tall and broad enough so that Pure didn’t have to crawl. A step inside and they are met with a bench. But no merchant attended it.

At least, not initially.

A familiar mask framed with blond hair perks up from behind the bench.

“We have got to stop meeting like this, mushroom~ :-)” Sucré greets, still happy as ever to see her favorite customers, Mushroom Cowboy and Scary Ghosty Moth. Still with the swan mask.

Pure briefly wonders how Fred will react if he meets this merchant.

“Say, what brings ya here, friend?” Huaso greets back, smiling. It’s nice to see a familiar face.

“It’s a purified Bismark, isn’t it? And what’s one of the features one can find in it? A place of shopping. It would be very off putting if there was nobody attending the cash register. Even if it is bleached. :-)”

The purifier takes another minute to think before speaking up.

“This is a really dumb question, but do you sell any books?”

~~

How?

Fucking _how?_

Whoever keeps writing these doujins always find their way into Eddie’s hands before they are fucking released to the public en masse. Whether he remembers or not.

No.

Not this time.

Before Pure could spot it, Huaso slams down the credits, demanding that he take this one ASAP.

“Ah, okay. I guess. :-/” Sucré stammers before collecting her nerves, taking the credits, slipping the doujin into the paper bag and handing it to Huaso. Mushroom can be scary sometimes. This is just one of them.

Pure had his eyes trained on something else anyway, he isn’t aware of the new book being slipped into the miner’s backpack.

“Hey, can I tell you boys something? :-/”

“Yeah, sure, I’m all ears.” Huaso nods, a hand reaching over and gently grabbing the knight’s own.

“I have a new pen pal. I got their reply today! :-D They say they’re a leader of a land somewhere off the grid, and a lot of things are edible there. But they won’t say what it is that is edible. :-)”

“That’s great! I’m glad ya made a buddy, even if yer only means of contact is through the ol’ fashioned pen ‘n paper.”

Huaso smiles. Sucré is going places, and has survived thus far. Making a friend is a big step.

“I can already imagine… |-D Cookies, muffins, smoothies… and sundaés! Oooh, but there’s also steak with lots of pepper to consider, too! :-d I should ask what it is they really like to eat when I compose my reply! :-D”

The purifier closes his eyes, trying to imagine who this mystery pen pal is. Only one thought comes to mind.

“Is it someone you fought with recently?”

“I don’t know, Ghosty Moth. :-/” was her miffed reply, “But if it is, then we could still be friends. Just as long as we don’t meet, face-to-mask. <:-)”

~~

Taking a look through the maze was a bad idea. Why did they run with it?

While it was bleached, typical of a purified zone, there was a Rube Goldberg machine jury-rigged throughout the entire mall. Pure couldn’t help but follow this to the very start; a marble ball in an upturned plastic lid from a bottle, and a small sign made of popsicle sticks with ‘Push me’ written on it, along with an arrow pointing in the direction the onlooker should push the ball, should they want to start the sequence.

“Don’ even think about it.”

“Why? I want to see what happens.”

“What if it’s a trap?”

So for now, they left it. Pure decides to follow the machine with his eyes alone as they walk along. He notices that the contraptions do not deviate from a singular path when there’s a subsequent room that will ultimately lead them to a dead end. There were many boxes scattered about, along with countless gutted shops, devoid of their goods and services.

When they reach the other end of the maze, it turns out that the machine is used to unlock the door. Neither engineer nor purifier located the key along the way.

“Guess we’ll see how this all plays out then.”

~~

Pure reads the sign again, and gives the marble a poke in the recommended direction.

It rolls down a pair of rails, made out of straws.

Before he knows it, it bumps into another marble, and another, and a contraption to set off a marble near the ceiling. The two follow the machine as it progresses along. Sometimes it moves fast, sometimes it stalls with another complicated network of contraptions and triggers. It was actually quite entertaining to see.

As a bowling ball is sent rolling, it runs over not one, not two, but three party poppers, blasting paper streamers and confetti in the process. Pure jumped at the first bang. Why was that necessary?

His elbow knocks into a cardboard box.

It falls. It rattles, and then it bursts open as a cluster of cockroach-sized Tier 2 Secretaries escape.

Attention diverted from the machine, Huaso and Pure get to work snuffling the mathematical toe munchers out.

~~

A key hung from the string by the door at the end of the maze. The machine had run its course. It was just a shame that the knight had been distracted from one little fuck up.

“It looks too complicated t’ reset.” Huaso admits bitterly, grabbing the key and pulling it off the string easily. He approaches the locked door and inserts the key, unlocking it. He has no idea why the whole circuit was set up.

Maybe the manticore was bored out of his mind.

Following down the corridor, they reach a dead end where the only thing of interest to see is a walking man icon. Only a hint larger. A pedalo recall station?

“Shall we go for a ride on the plastic sea today?”

“Does this mean we’re done here?” Pure responds with a question of his own.

A silence stretches, as both weigh up their options.

“We might be off the grid f’ a while. I worry that we might hit the edge of the canvas eventually, t’ be honest.”

“If the situation really calls for it, I’ll fly us to the nearest landmass”

“But didn’ ya say it’s dangerous t’ carry me?”

“We’ll manage. Only if you cannot open a tunnel on a boat.”

Huaso thinks for a minute more before resting his hand on the mark.

A seam forms on the wall, and then the slabs of metal draw back slowly to reveal a set of stairs descending below the surface. With the headlight on, they proceed.

~~

It is humid downstairs, which opens up to an underground port.

Waiting in the plastic wasn’t a pedalo, but a boat. A yacht, rather.

Huaso takes this time to check it out, suss out the deck, the cockpit, a lot, really. He didn’t know how a boat like this works. He’s not sure he can man this.

Pure easily goes below deck, finding it just roomy enough for him, and ample of space for his little friend. After a bit of looking around, he finds the instruction book. With the headlight’s aid from the hardhat, the two sit down and learn about how to manage running a yacht.  
Does this thing run on fuel, too? Huaso ponders, looking at the molten plastic. Maybe he should make more hydro-rombed potassium. Ah, but he should also make sure it is compatible.

Reading into the night while checking that everything about the yacht is in order meant they weren’t going to depart until tomorrow’s lunch time.


	14. Cataclysmic Counters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So an engineer who occasionally turns into a cowboy, and a knight, operate a yacht.
> 
> The former is definitely not seawise, but they gotta try if they hope to find even a nostalgic place to call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly forgot to upload this on time. Then again, I did spend most of the day at volunteer work.
> 
> Also, that sea bass is definitely a C-. (Latest Animal Crossing reference, if you were wondering.)

Finally getting the gist of two men operating the yacht, they check their food supplies before finally boarding, pulling up anchor, and departing from the port. They follow the long narrow tunnel until they are out in the open ocean. The bleached remains of Bismark, miraculously standing proud, even as the details began to shrink the further the boat moved away.

While Huaso takes the helm, Pure resumes reading, and rereading the instruction manual. He wants to make sure that, should something wrong happen, he will know what to do in a pinch.

“Pure, could ya please grab a bucket an’ scoop up some plastic?” Huaso asks above the wind, hands on the wheel and keeping it steady as the wind fills the sails.

Without missing a beat, the knight nods, putting the manual back in the cabin, and comes back out with a bucket. He leans over the railing and skims the bucket into the surface, getting enough plastic, or so he hopes.

He did not count on catching a sea bass in the process, the fish thrashing before jumping out. This also prompted the knight to stumble with his hold before the bucket is dropped.

“Ah-! Shit…”

“What, what is it?” Huaso asks, tilting his head to get a better look.

“I-I dropped the bucket. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

Well, Pure tried, didn’t he? He’s an expert in combat, and travelling on foot. But not on sea, and especially when he refuses to fly while carrying his little friend… he nearly double takes, seeing a glow form on the surface before the lantern breaks. Whatever it belonged to, their swimming speed was matching the yacht’s pace, no problem.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to throw stuff into the ocean?”

Oh, that voice! Pure smiles, giving a wave.

“Sorry, scooped up a green and grey slimy fish and it spooked me.”

“Hey! I take offense to that!” Mishca is also a green and grey slimy fish too.

“You’re not small enough to fit in that bucket. And you’re an anglerfish, not a… uh…”

“Sea bass?” Huaso offers.

“Y-Yeah, a sea bass.”

“Those ain’t a C+ either.”

Pure glances at the mersen, who looks to be struggling. “Did you catch the bucket? Sorry, a-again, about dropping it, but can we have it back please?”

Waiting patiently with a hand extended, he watches as Mishca heaves with his arms until the bucket is back above surface. It wasn’t easy to collect, for the yacht is still on the move.

“Thank you.” the knight smiles, grasping the handle and taking the bucket up with ease.

While Pure isn’t heavy per se, Huaso still had to manage the boat and make sure it doesn’t tilt. “Mish, what brings ya here?”

“A few of my scouts said they saw something weird on the water, so I came to look! Lo and behold, it’s you two and a boat”

Pure can see that the mersen is having an easier time keeping up now that he’s not dragging a bucket underwater again. He finds a spot, away from the seabound inhabitant to pour the excess plastic out.

“So, where are you two heading?”

“Anywhere, an’ nowhere. Pure an’ I are jus’ lookin’ for a place ta call home now. We’re trapped ‘ere, we may as well make the most of it.”

Huaso made sure that everything was still sailing in the direction they were going in, which is away from Bismark.

“Are you going to swim alongside us for a while?” the knight asks, watching Mishca keep up easily.

“I guess so, why? I really don’t have much else to do.”

The mersen sounds a little winded. It is then that Pure gets an idea.

“Why not jump aboard?”

At this question, Mishca looks along the yacht, spotting a ledge at the back.

“Oh yeah I can actually do that- maybe I will for a bit.” he pants, taking a dive under the surface.

“Pure, ya might wanna catch ‘im.”

No need for please or to be told twice. The purifier moves, carefully as to not rock the boat, and stands by the ledge. With good timing, the mersen leaps out, and lands on the other’s outstretched arms.

A nice catch!

“Thanks for the save!” Mishca grins up at the knight, “If you didn’t catch me, I would’ve landed wrong.”

~~

When the sun sets, the winds die down. It is time for dinner.

At least the cabin has a small kitchen. Huaso worked away diligently to make more of that Moloch’s stew while Pure resumed reading the manual. And after some reminding about the technology that can extend time spent outside of the plastic, Mish was soon seated by the table.

“So, I heard from the fool ‘imself that ya took a bite out of him.” Huaso spoke up, still focused on the cooking pot.

“Indeed I did. But if it came from his mouth, he probably skipped on the details as to how it went.” Mishca pauses, thinking back to the damage he manages to pull off on the fool at the time.  
“I took a nice sized chunk of shoulder, then went away with the arm because he was trying to stab me with a weird sword. Dumbass didn’t think about how much faster I am in the water, and how hard it is to move if you’re not aquatic. Few more bites and keeping him under and I think he drowned… so, wait, how did you hear it from the bucket head?”

“Well,” Huaso shrugs, “I told ‘im to piss off before I let the big guy give ‘im a death count fo’ the road. An’ he said ‘He can’t do much worse than what that anglerfish mersen freak did to me.’ His words, not mine.”

Pure glances up from the book with a small grin.

“Just the other day, I kicked him in the balls and he fell down the stairs after he soured Huaso’s morning.” he admits, almost shamelessly.

Mishca laughs at this news, grinning afterwards. “Noiiiiice~” He does flinch when his tail hits a leg of the table, cursing under his breath.

“I told Pure it ain’t nice ta hit a bloke there.” Huaso chimes in.

“Is if they deserve it.” The mersen grins again. A guy who lacks a sore spot is a guy who is all for cheap shots?

“Huaso said that Lenny had it coming to him from a long way away.”

“An’ that’s why I gave ya a pass, buddy. But, an’ I’ll say it again, in the future don’ go makin’ it a habit.” Huaso puts down the bowls full of Moloch’s stew. “Order up. An’ eat well if ya suspect gettin’ a little sick tonight.”

Pure takes this as his cue to put the manual away and go sit at the bench, happily digging into his share.

It is there that Mishca leans over and starts whispering to him. “As I usually tell my fellow survivors; if they talk shit, kick them in the dick. It’s only natural-”

“Mish, what were ya sayin’ to ‘im?” Huaso asks, interrupting Mishca.

Right. Huaso has echolocation, he probably _almost_ heard that. The mersen grins like a cat with a knife pointed at it.

“Just the usual. Talk shit, get hit.”

“But that’s what Eddie was like in the past, too. Ya want Pure ta blast ya outta the water if ya do somethin’ t’ warrant a hit?”

Pure glances between the two as a minor debate ensures. He then clears his throat, “I wouldn’t hit you, even if you do talk shit and deserve a hit. Because Huaso likes you as a friend. He doesn’t like Lenny, so I kicked him.”

Huaso leaves the two to talk so that he may finish cooking his fish. As he keeps an eye on it, a thought crosses his mind. The emperor butterflies that escaped a balloon, along with a golden flesh, soon reminds the engineer of another local bastard, Lepi. The Harbringer of Life that everyone, with the exception of himself and Death, seem to have a problem coexisting with.

And what Eddie did when they first crossed paths.

“Hey, Mish? Can I tell ya somethin’?” Huaso asks.

“Sure Huaso! What is it?” Mishca responds, his tail bumping into Pure’s leg with barely any notice.

“When Eddie an’ I, along with Florence, ran into Lepi, one of the few things he did was throw a fist at his face. Failed, of course, since Lepi caught it with his teeth. Eddie was jus’ lucky that he didn’ bite down.”

“Really? Why did he go and try to do that?” Mishca asks, somewhat amazed at the attempt.

“Gimmi a sec…” Huaso frowns some, staring at his fish steak as he scrapes through what valuable memories he has before answering, “Ah. Because, I think, Eddie asked him ‘bout ya, an’ why he turned ya into a merman. He said it was because yer a marine biologist. But that last remark about yer lamp bein’ ‘a nice touch’ must’ve ticked ‘im off enough ta try an’ give Lepi a black eye.”

“Huh… Loudmouth actually went and tried to punch Life himself.” Mishca muses, a look of amazement in his pale eyes, “Looks like we both got revenge for each other. Or uh… tried to.”

_‘Eddie did that?’_

Pure looks at his hands once he sets the bowl down. If he was Eddie once before, and this Lepi guy said something that had riled up the spirit, then it would probably make sense. It sounds like something he would do. He glances at Mishca. By some of the tone, the transformed Elsen and the Purifier didn’t exactly get along. With an abrasive behavior being his first line of defense against total strangers, Pure could easily imagine that his past self may have made a lot of unintentional enemies.   
Perhaps it was by stroke of luck that Huaso got past it all easily. Or maybe it was love? Pure glances down at his chest. That last solid dream he had; it felt warm, welcoming. He liked the miner when they first met. Or maybe he fell flat on his face with love without knowing it, but still bided his time before his attempts at flirting. Or maybe that was all Eddie, too.

Pure glances at Huaso again. That telepathic glove was right; love is a fickle thing.

\--

_There was no waiting in the void._

_He is Black Batter again, trying to talk to that father figure._

_The squiggles were absent this time._

_He can see a box, on a bloody neck._

_A single large eye._

_A pair of antennas._

_He had to endure the lies._

_The excuses._

_He had to bite his tongue._

_But damn, did he want to punch his face in._

_\--_

_This room is red._

_Much like blood trapped in the goggles._

_Much like the Creator that carries the same leg of ham._

_Much like the boxing gloves._

_Much like the glow in his eye sockets._

_\--_

_And in a blink, it is over._

_The room is bleached._

_This file is purified._

_The only thing red are his hands._

_Stained with the boxed man’s blood._

_So. This was all a test?_

_To what?_

_All this hatred._

_The resentment._

_The lies._

_The favoritism._

_The vitriol._

_All let out after the lid of a bottle is flipped off._

_And Pure feels painfully deflated._

_But more._

_More than anything._

_He feels grief._

_He hugs the limp body._

_His hollow sockets forecasting a downpour._

_His essence._

_Traumatized all over again._

_If he wasn’t capable of flying._

_Or if he conveniently forgot._

_He would jump from the top of that building._

_There would be no one to hold him._

_\--_

_But that’s where he is wrong._

_There is someone there to hold him should he try._

_They are right there, hugging him._

_After they asked if he wanted a hug._

_A subtle glance towards them._

_“Go ahead.”_

_He knew it this whole time._

_He didn’t want that to be true._

_Yesterday was a terrible day._

_So many things happened._

_Where can he go from here?_

_\--_

_Well, wherever next, he wouldn’t have to go alone, would he?_

_And besides._

_He said he will not leave anyone behind._

_But the grievance that has made itself at home._

_Like a cold stone in the bottom of his stomach._

_Will he be able to ignore it?_

_Shake it off?_

_Digest it and forget about it like the afterthoughts of food?_

_Pure wouldn’t know--_

_\--_

A loud groan was what brought Pure out of his dream that time.

It is storming outside, and he is up. There’s a subtle pang of nausea in his stomach as he tries to stretch. Where is Huaso?

Another lurch of the yacht further shakes the sleep from the knight as he tries to roll out of the bottom bunk, getting to his feet. It is storming something fierce. So why is the cabin door closed?

If Huaso is out there, fighting the wheel for controls, then he shouldn’t be fighting it alone. It’s all hands on deck!

Ignoring the sickening feeling, Pure gets into his armor and makes his way out of the door.

A flash of lightning illuminates the sky, accompanied by a loud tesla-like bang.

The presence of a powerful Purifier gets the man at the wheel’s attention, but he does not let go.

“What are ya doin’ up, big fella?”

That tone.

It does not sound like Huaso.

“I was woken up.” Pure hollers back. He had to shake that stunned mindset off his head.

If the strength of the Corruption is anything to go by, along with this miserable downpour, this has to be Pestilence. And admittedly, he looks hot--

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT! TURN THAT BOAT AROUND OR YOU’RE GOING TO CAPSIZE!”

A cry from the water makes Pure look at the mersen, cupping his webbed hands around his mouth as he shouts.

“AN’ HEAD BACK ‘ROUND TA BISMARK? NAH!”

Okay, the knight _might_ have to agree with Mishca with that one. Pestilence is hot, but so incredibly stupid. Pure wonders if the harbringer has his own level of zombie brains, worse than what Huaso has to deal with.   
He stumbles as the boat starts to climb up a wave. Glancing up further reveals that this is a towering monolith, and it is about to break. Judging from the metric ton; if it falls, it will snap the boat easily into two.

This will not do.

**{Hollow Be Thy Name}**

A blinding light erupts from the solar energy of his bat-like weapon, sending a swarm of moth-shaped bursts surging towards the wall of plastic. Since it was a non-living object, Pure had to really concentrate on a focal point. Once a ball is formed from the moths gathering at this focal point, it explodes, splitting the wave into two, and opening the way for the yacht.

The boat in question flops down on a now flattened surface, travelling between the break of the large wave.

“Wheeewie! Well I’d be, yer a special kinda sports, ain’t ya?”

“I… I guess?” Pure mutters sheepishly, barely heard above the smaller, crashing waves and the howling winds. Judging from the lack of shouting overboard, Pure can safely guess that Mishca is impressed as well.

Pure looks at his bat.  
He had promised himself that he would _never_ use this Savvy ever again. But catastrophic events require cataclysmic counters. Holstering his club for now, he gets to work as a crew member to keep the maintenance of the yacht up to scratch. Through the course of the night, Pure had to split about two more waves. It felt like an eternity, but not long after midnight the little boat had finally arrived to calmer seas.

The fog came in thick, and with it, more rain to come later, but with some luck it wouldn’t be a bumpy, stormy ride.

~~

Pure’s eyes glance over the large club in his hand. His weapon of choice. The one thing he stopped by a museum to pick up. Etched in it is the phrase ‘Et in Arcadia Ego’. On the tip is what appears to be the power of the Sun. Further amplifying the element of his namesake whenever he executes a savvy of that element.

He never gave himself time to really think about his weapon. All he knows is that it’s formidable enough to protect his little friend in the few precious seconds that Huaso is unable to defend himself, or retaliate against an adversary.

The boat creaks a little, and the nausea still hasn’t died down. Despite a long taxing night, Pure got as much sleep as he could, but the feeling of dread began to rise in his stomach. Getting up from his bed, he heads out.

Pestilence is still at the wheel. It is still raining. The rumbles of thunder a distant league away.

“Huaso?”

“Pure?” the harbringer questions back, his soaked white hair barely moving in the breeze, “Ya back up again?”

“Please, take shelter. I’ll manage it from here.”

The knight has a point. Huaso stands back from the wheel, watching the other take hold and resume the weary voyage. He needs to dry off and warm up. The source of Corruption may have relented control, very eagerly if he had to swear on it, but if Huaso is left to deal with standing in the rain, holes will begin to form in his memories. As he moves to get inside, get the heater going, and rug himself up in towels and a change of clothes, he can’t help but notice something in his peripheral view.

Was… was Pure taking a glance at his ass?  
He shakes his head. There’s nothing but a hip bone there.

~~

“Huaso, can I ask you a question?”

Pure enquiries, still at the helm with his hands on the wheel. The rain has indeed started up again, but just as predicted, it’s not a wall of liquid for weather.

“Shoot.” Huaso nods, still doing his bit to make sure the yacht is in good condition, and checking to see if Mishca is still hanging around. Though he hasn’t exit Full Mode yet, he has found equipment to shield himself from the rain.

“When we started travelling together, you were grieving. Weren’t you?”

Huaso gives pause at this question, his iron infused jaw giving a creak as he thinks about it.

“Ah was,” the harbringer begins to answer, “but it ain’t the first time ah grieved. It happened when mah best friend died, when ah died, an’ to-date, when Eddie’s memories were lost.”

“I see.” Pure mumbles. Huaso has come to terms with it, which is why he and his friend get along so well. “What is it like to grieve?”

“It ain’t an easy progress, that’s fer sure. The easiest term ta go by is that it comes in stages, with acceptance bein’ the end of grief. Even if for a time.  
“There’s denial, pretendin’ it didn’ happen. Ah was in denial fo’ a long time when Eddie first went missin’. There’s anger, when all the bottled up emotions come out all at once. Ya saw me take it out on that rocket. There’s bargainin’, the ‘what ifs’, ‘if onlys’, tryin’ a make sense of what course of action one could’ve taken ta circumvent it. There’s depression. Similar to anger, but let out in a moment of sadness. Some folk find it hard ta git outta bed, or eat some days. That might’ve been a big one for poor Eddie, an’ even ah didn’ know how ta keep his chin up without providin’ false hope at this point.   
“An’ finally, acceptance. Comin’ t’ terms with the grievance. Ah’ve accepted that mah friend is dead, that ah’m no longer alive mahself, an’ that Eddie, by nostalgia, is gone. But…” Huaso pauses, rubbing an eye with a sniff, “But ah’ve got you. A-And…”

“And I’ve got you.” Pure adds, taking a moment to let this sink in.

“So why do ya ask me this now? Ah’ll forgit about this conversation once ah exit Full.” While lacking any discerning skin on his face, Huaso’s expression manages to tell the knight that he is sombre. Maybe melancholic. “Is it because ya had another dream?”

Pure nods. “It was… about a boxer with a box for a head.”

_‘Ah, Will. Or Boxedman, Eddie’s adoptive father.’_

A silence falls between the two, only accompanied by the roll of waves, the gently blowing winds, and the occasional creak of the boat.

“Pure, that might be a story fer another time. And only if ya wanna dig deeper into Eddie’s past some more.”

~~

One week.

Two weeks.

Three weeks goes by.

While stranded at sea, neither the purifier nor the harbringer could abandon ship in order to go to Flo’s and catch up with Ted and Fred, so they had to make do with phone calls.

Mishca couldn’t be around everyday to make sure it was smooth sailing. And he still had a bunch of survivors to keep watch at his own home, too.

They caught up with Sucré on more than one occasion, stocking up on meats, flesh, and some fruit and veg from Mida’s farm. And it also looks like Coach has started travelling with her again, too.

During one encounter with the merchant, Coach informs that he has seen a familiar piece of land, and it’s likely data that has fallen from their home file. With this news, and after being pointed in the right direction, Huaso sets a course to seek it out. Hopefully before it’s lost to the records.

~~

One more week escapes them.

And, at last, the yacht bumps into metal.

Land.

Pure snorts awake at this, looking around while blinking the sleep from his eyes. Of all the times they both agreed to go to bed…

He nudges his small sleeping friend, who stretches with a grunt in response.

Huaso looks so cute when he stretches.

The engineer in question isn’t dressed yet, but Pure is, so he takes the initiative to leave the cabin, take the wheel, and find a better place to dock the yacht. As he drives the yacht, he studies the land and its colors. It’s almost like what Huaso told him; green on the surface, purple inside. But, maybe, the colors are all wrong? Is this a side effect of data transitioning from ON to OFF?

“Hey buddy. I think we can dock here.” Huaso suggests, while pointing at a good spot to drop anchor.

~~

Exploring Damien was pure nostalgia for Huaso.

What surprised him that there were, indeed, a few inhabitants around. Most were watching the two traverse, some were a little scared to approach. Those who had stuck around longer recognized the harbringer, and so whispered gossip got out quickly.

He’s back? Who’s that with him? He looks familiar too. What happened to the sick one’s Purifier? Where is he? If 48276 is here, what does this mean?

“Where are we going?” Pure asks, concerned that they were being whispered about.

“We’re headin’ for the mines.” Huaso replies, a smile on his face. He would have to check out the remaining data of his old Zone 1. As they approach the mines, an inhabitant stops them.

“Hhh… you…”

“Yes, me? What about it?” Huaso tilts his head at the Elsen.

“Where have you been? It’s d-dangerous to go into the mines.” he wheezes again.

“Why?” Pure inquires, “I can look after us both.”

“There’s been a l-large ghoul in there lately. It’s appeared since an inhabitant without a face visited… Hhh… the boss was in there at the time, doing his routine inspections, like clockwork, when it happened. And the monster ate him up!”

“Now calm down, fella.” Huaso reassures, a hand resting on the Elsen’s shoulder, “We got this. If ya remember me, ya’d know that phantoms an’ ghouls don’ leave a lastin’ impact on me.”

It took a bit more convincing, but the inhabitant finally steps aside, with new confidence in the harbringer and the purifying knight. The two proceed down the stairs.

It got dark quickly. As Huaso turns on his headlamp, he wonders when all the workers started to neglect turning the lamps on. The noise of work was absent, and that sent a chill down a spine. Still, he pushes onwards. After a few turns, they come to a dead end.

Even while Pure is unable to stand at his full height, he is able to recognize this room.

“This… this is where the first time Eddie met you.” he muses out loud, getting his bat out, the sun on the end of it illuminating the place just as well as Huaso’s headlamp does.

“Ya remember this?”

“I do. I saw it in a dream.”

Huaso turns to look at his tall friend, smiling at him. It warms his defunct heart that Pure smiles back. Much like the love of the sun.

Something out of place catches Pure’s attention, in his peripheral view. A large, dry, crumpled piece of thin metal. “What is that?”

“I dunno…” Huaso answers, just as miffed as he walks over to check it out. It looks like discarded skin, but as brittle as it appears, it is also very sturdy. Almost see through. Like shed scales. “Looks like a snake’s shed skin…”

“What’s a snake?”

“A reptile of the suborder serpentine.”

It’s been a long time since Pure had asked him a question in regards to a single word. Almost made nonexistent since he read through an entire dictionary. Huaso offers another smile, which is returned.

Echoes flickered, causing Huaso to direct his attention to a large hole in the room. He hadn’t noticed it before, and if Pure had, he didn’t say anything sooner.

“We might find our new monster ghoul down ‘ere.”


	15. You are a Giant, in New Graham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend, a new home, and new projects to get onto.
> 
> Old thoughts, familiar feelings, and new yearnings.
> 
> All in all, a recipe to finally settle down and wait out this lifetime. In good hope and company

Whatever this new monster is, it has been making a multitude of tunnels. Almost like a network, or it’s trying to dig out a lot of metal. Even though the data landed oddly that a threat of flooding the place with plastic is low, it’s still as good a precaution as any to take.

An abrupt flicker echoes behind Huaso. Though soundless, it indicated a big entity was slithering around in the network. When he turns around, with Pure trying to follow his gaze, both are startled to find that the way they came in has vanished, completely. Now on guard, Pure raises his bat more, allowing the light to better illuminate the place. The two press onwards into the deep maze.

Another flicker got Huaso to turn in the direction it came from, barely catching the sound of scales scraping the metal.

“We might’ve walked right into a viper pit.” Huaso growls, taking a tense stance, “Git ready, Pure.”

The echoes were erupting at a constant pace, and it was closing in around them. As though something massive was coiling, blocking all their exits. Pure tenses, visor down, eyes glowing in the slots, wings ready to propel him forward into the fray if he has to.

The voice that projects into their minds is what surprises them.

“48276… is that you?” It sounds… familiar.

Huaso relaxes his stance, trying to find the beast’s head. “That’s my number, why?”

“It’s been… so long…”

At this, the coils loosen, with the tail following the main body as it vanishes into holes. Only leaving the head gazing down at them. Almost. If the beast had its eyes open.

“Whoever you are, ya look like a basilisk.” Huaso muses, goggles giving a glint as he digs into some outside knowledge.

“I am. And it’s not fucking fun, I can tell you that now.”  
A rumbling hiss is emitted by the serpentine beast, “The last time I saw you, I was having a really bad day. You scratched me, and then something else hit me in the back of my head.”

_‘Wait? Could it be? No way…’_

As the thought crosses Huaso’s mind, the beast raises its head more, close to the ceiling of the network, as it shows off its chest. Right there, the faint scars of a nasty gash is seen etched into the underbelly.

“…Boss?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The basilisk relaxes, still keeping its eyes closed. “After recovering, I started avoiding you, and waited for days when you were marked absent. I… really shouldn’t have done that, instead I should have sought you out and apologized. I believe it was… two years since then, when you scratched me. The lights went out one day, as though someone flipped the switch. One moment, it was dark. The next, we wake up, with our land intact, in a place with an atmosphere unfamiliar to us. The air was cleaner than smoke. And we thought nothing of it at first, until some weird worker with a blue tie and a weird taste in hair style showed up. I knew he was trouble right away, so I did my best to protect what few men I had left. And well… you can see the results of this fine mess.”

Pure begins to relax, but keeps his bat held up as a torch. The sun on the end illuminates the network well, along with revealing the transformed guardian. The once copper skin, now scales.

“Keepin’ yer eyes closed because direct contact kills a man?”

“You already seem to know, 48276.” the basilisk acknowledges with a nod, “I learned about this the hard way, as I’ve lost a few of my men as a result. For a while, they feared me. But my changed demeanor remains present; and it’s what got me to reach out to my men and get them to trust me again. Since that day when you attacked me, I was left fighting for my life. And it got me thinking… you could have left me for dead. But you ordered your coworkers to get me home, patch me up, monitor me and make sure I didn’t die.”

“I ain’t a killer, boss. I was actin’ in self defense. Ya were about ta choke me.” Huaso counters, frowning a little.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

The voice in their heads goes quiet. Pure wasn’t sure if he should be around to listen to this. But a wayward thought does cross him. “I think Eddie was the one who knocked you out.”

“It certainly wasn’t 48276, he was standing before me this whole time.” the beast gives another quiet hiss, “I do appreciate the physical anesthetics, though.”

More echoes erupt, as a few fluffy… things, began to emerge around the serpent. More Elsens? Rabbits? Bunnies? Lagomorphs? Some were wheezing. Others, very curious. And fewer still held a glint of recognition in their eyes as they looked at Huaso.

“Lepi got to ya, too?” Huaso asks, sounding disheartened. Sure, most of them shunned him for his sickness, but that doesn’t stop him from being a little mad with Life messing with the folk from his file.

“They look… cuddly.” Pure mumbles, putting the bat down and taking a knee as a few approach him. He almost wants to pet them.

“Just be careful, you overgrown moth. Some of them don’t actually like being patronized.”

~~

Not a day since they left the yacht and Pure misses the gentle rocking of the plastic as he went to sleep. At the same time, he deeply missed sleeping in their roomy tent. But now… he can’t sleep. His heart is racing as he lies there, resting on his back. What could possibly have him riled up?

It could be that his little friend has come to some terms and agreements with the basilisk, been allowed to set up camp, a workbench, and start plotting some designs to make the zone-turned-island their new home.

Speaking of… Huaso is still at the desk, muttering to himself as he adds this, erases that, looking it over with the marker in hand. The headlamp on his helmet is on a high beam to help mitigate his inability to see the silver lines properly in a murk of red. He needs to get the blueprints done for the first few underground houses that he will build for the lagomorphed Elsens. All of the unchanged inhabitants were the first to eagerly pitch in with assistance, and his boss even admitted that he’s excited with what the engineer will come up with but--

He feels a hand rest on his shoulder.

“Rest.” was all Pure said, looking at him with a passive, concerned expression in his eyes.

Huaso lets out a yawn that he hadn’t realized he was holding back.

“I can’t. Not right now. I gotta git these blueprints up off the ground…”

“The last few nights have been rough, Huaso.” Pure says, not removing his hand.

“You can’ sleep, can ya?”

The engineer stands from his seat, giving a stretch before resting a hand on the other’s own that is still on his shoulder. “Ya want me ta join ya in bed then?”

Pure nods. He himself is all ready for bed, but once more, something has him wired and left him feeling unwilling to close his eyes.

“Is it my ol’ boss? He said ya could stay, too, ya know.” Huaso asks, taking another guess.

“It’s not that.” Pure declines, shaking his head, “It’s something else. I don’t know what it is.”

“Ya dunno, huh?”

A little reluctant to give up his blueprints for the night, Huaso follows the purifier to bed. Although he has to admit; he misses sleeping on the big bed with the big guy. He misses the hugs. At least one of them always had to be on the helm, and it wasn’t easy navigating the seas. No less their creeping fatigue. Heck, Huaso thought that Pestilence pitching in to help when he assumed control was a bit of a cursed godsend in of itself. But only because the core of corruption is outback-savvy, not seawise.

As soon as his body laid down on the bed, he felt his entire frame relax. His purring was quick to start up as soon as Pure slinks an arm around him, after lying on his back right next to the harbringer.

“Ya know what? Yer right; we need this rest. As excitin’ as it is ta start projects, we both earned it. I forgot what it’s like ta cuddle up to yer side.”

“Hmm…” Pure hums in agreement, cuddling his little friend closer.

~~

Still with a restless mind, Pure begins to think back on how he met his friend; his friend that he'll admit he’s been emotionally drawn to. Huaso is cute, in his own robust way, even when he’s unhealthy by design. And it’s not for the lack of trying. He is strong by his own right; he is gentle, kind, patient, willing to lend an ear, and genuinely hardy. He is intelligent, and somewhat wise, even when he doesn’t give himself enough credit in that area. He’s caring, even when he doesn’t always show it. He might not be the best in combat, but he does his best. Just as much as Pure himself tries his best at everything, from holding back in a fight, to trying to listen when Huaso needs someone to hear him out. He might not be the warmest or softest thing Pure has cuddled, but he’s nice to cuddle up to, major height disparity be damned.

And most of all, Pure doesn’t feel hollow, a sensation that he felt a lot when Lenny left him to his own thoughts. Thoughts that would have been devoid in his head, since an actor can only act, not think. Deep down, the weaponized purifier always knew there was something missing in his life. And it was not a feeling he relished being saddled with.

He met the lost harbringer not long after purifying 81 and his party, destroyed Metal Knight’s crystal, and was given instructions to move onward to his next destination. A train of thoughts giving him purpose, giving him action.  
A train of thoughts effortlessly derailed when he heard someone sobbing. It wasn’t a robot; they usually fall apart after their respective knight is destroyed. No, this someone was similar to the inhabitant he purified, but its essence was corrupted. Much like Lenny’s own essence. Thoroughly corrupted beings could not be purified; for this reason alone, Pure couldn’t view them as a target. But as the sobbing continued, he couldn’t ignore this. He lands nearby, waiting for the lonely inhabitant to calm down before announcing his presence.

Pure frowns as he tries to recall more. At this time, he still had the rainbow halos adoring his wrists and behind his helmet. Even though Lenny controlled him this way, the ex-bringer of Death had as much control as a midget trying to walk an energized Great Dane on a buttery leash. Against Lenny’s orders, he sat by the sobbing inhabitant, got to know him, ate with and cuddled him just a little before he had to push onwards to his next goal. He still had actions to fulfill.

He didn’t meet Huaso again until he was this close to completing his mission: to kill U-Gore.

Lenny summed it up right. Huaso was like an ant on cordyceps. He refused to budge. The Harbringer of Pestilence is by no means a target to Pure, but he was making himself one for reasons that involved an unbridled instinct to survive. An instinct Huaso had no say to resist.

The moment his very existence is threatened, the coward’s option was no longer available.

Huaso refused to step aside.

Huaso refused to back down.

Huaso refused to let Pure Knight move onward--not without taking his life with him.

Lenny implants the thought to grant the foolish zombie his death wish.

But this time?

Pure chose to ignore it.

To grant such a death wish would be to usher in the hollow feeling. He was not ready to endure its presence again.  
So instead, he grabs the inhabitant, lets him sit on his shoulder, drops ‘Et in Arcadia Ego’ on the ground, and jumps towards the sadistic God.

One.

Two.

Three mighty punches.

It didn’t kill U-Gore, but it sure as hell punched his lights out--

A quiet grunt interrupts Pure’s thoughts.

Huaso is already fast asleep, curled up, nuzzling into his side. Pure smiles, using a hand to pet his friend’s back.

It was after Pure decided to go against the thought of killing U-Gore that the rainbow halos faded away. Like chains, or strings, eroding from his being.

Pure was no longer under anyone’s control.

But he still felt compelled to listen to Huaso. He couldn’t say no, or refuse any request, even when manners were involved. Especially when he’s asked nicely to do something.

Huaso never asked him to stay. But he did say yes to Pure’s desire to stay by his side.

Although… Eddie broke a promise: that nobody would be left behind. And Pure felt obligated to pick up from where his past self left off.

Why he didn’t feel this unwavering loyalty towards Lenny is beyond him, but it always falls back to the hollow sensation in his heart during that time. Or, perhaps, lack thereof. Someone else is the Heart, and Pure himself is the Soul. Maybe it was Eddie’s younger brother that was the heart? It would make a lot of sense.

If someone were to take Pure Knight apart, would they find a heart or a soul inside?

Even though the harbringer doesn’t recall the conversation due to the nature of Full Mode, Huaso also confirmed that he was grieving during their first few weeks of travelling together. And that he was sorry if he ever took it out on the knight.

Pure smiles.

They’ve been through a lot. Maybe not as much as Huaso and Eddie have endured, but the experience was arguably tantamount.

His eyelids finally grew heavy. He really needed this mental pep talk with himself, while his sleeping friend kept his side nice and warm. And the emptiness at bay.

But maybe…

Just maybe…

There’s a new emptiness forming inside.

Yearning.

Hungry--

Another quiet grunt cuts through the dead silence within the tent. Huaso is snoring like an elderly cat, which is a quiet, cute, occasional grunt in the back of his throat, but still disturbing for anyone that cannot fall asleep in the presence of noise.

Not the time to indulge in those thoughts. Huaso is asleep. Yes, he’s made a point that he’s open to the idea of it, but he’s asleep. He needs sleep!

Pure shafts that idea to the back burner as he closes his eyes.

~~

The way to Sachihata via the mines has caved in.

“What happened ‘ere?” Huaso asks an unchanged inhabitant, once he climbs out of the mines into Pentel, followed by the knight.

“Well… hhh…” the inhabitant begins, taking a deep breath, “when the lights went out one day, followed by an earth tremor hours later, we awoke to almost all of Zone 1 still intact, but the atmosphere felt dead. T-Then a strange man appeared on the land. W-When the man told Dedan of a ghoul rampaging in the mines, he went to investigate. From the rumors that s-spread… hhh… he was eaten by that ghoul because he never resurfaced. A f-few days later, Alma and Sachihata disappeared. J-Just like that. Hhh… overn-night.”

Huaso glances over at Pure with a worried frown.

If he had to put two and two together; Dedan’s soul had come out of his toxic-induced coma stronger than ever. With the impurities squashed, he made some drastic improvements to the work ethics of his zone, and even taught some inhabitants how to fight back efficiently, while keeping a cool level-headed disposition. And with patience.  
To be turned into a basilisk, a mythological monster that can kill with direct eye contact, must have been devastating for the guardian. Having more than half of his work force turned into fearful bunnies didn’t do his esteem any good either, and it must have taken a long time to win back their trust. To change for the better, and then be turned into a monster, must have had quite the impact on his soul; it had gotten weaker, and as a result of isolating himself within the mines, Alma and Sachihata disappeared.

The only land they have to grow the meat stocks in is Pentel. And they are standing right in it.

Wait.

Hold on.

Huaso perks up as his shoe nudges some loamy soil. “When did that git here?”

“Hhh… I don’t know. It’s been appearing in places since we a-arrived, I t-think.”

The soft soil gives the harbringer an idea.

“I need to git in contact with Sucré.”

~~

“I guess it’s a good thing you told me about the blood oaks~! :-D”

Just like Sucré promised over the cell phone, she would be there within the day after collecting the seeds, as well as a few trunks intact. She is charging a lot for fully grown oaks however. Amongst the requested stock, she has also brought along feed for the cows, and some seeds from Mida’s farm. They can get planting for the starving masses underground; with the exception of a transformed cat that Huaso faced in the past, rabbits are not known to be meat eaters.

After getting the appropriate amount of stock to get started on surface management, Huaso takes a moment to think before asking the question on his mind. “How’s ya penpal?”

“They’re doing great, mushroom! :-D” Sucré eagerly replies, “I told them about the blood oaks, and they got excited. They ordered some seeds themselves, and I got Valérie to deliver them. I’m glad he came back okay. :-( After all, if my first visit to Estate Kvar is anything to go by, I’m not welcomed there. And some outsiders risk being transformed. So, again. So glad Val came back in one piece. <:-)”

“I’m glad he got back too.” Huaso agrees with a nod.

Pure was checking out the fully grown fleshy bark trees, with their entire roots covered in a bag. Possibly to prevent losing loose dirt that still clung to the roots. The leaves have an interesting blood color to it, along with veins that almost mimic blood vessels.

“We should git plantin’. Thanks again, Sucré.”

~~

As soon as a persistent food supply becomes stable, Huaso could finally move onto making homes. For both the inhabitants on the surface, and the lagomorphed inhabitants underground. His former boss also seemed very eager to help carve out some space. Once all that has been established, he could finally get onto making his own home. Big enough to accommodate Pure as well.

The tent that they have lived in together could now be saved for camping trips, or nomadic adventures in the future. Huaso remains in contact with Sucré to get some furniture in, but for something like a big bed, just like the one in the tent, he would have to visit Molly’s shop on a given night when the brothers are over at Florence’s home for the monthly dinner get-togethers.

It would take a year or two to get it all done even with all the help. And the harbringer of pestilence is very much aware that he is living in a dump yard full of broken lives, and a reality that lies to him constantly. But he cannot depart from it, and he cannot end himself; Even if he could, he would be breaking his promise that he wouldn’t leave Pure behind. When the promise swings both ways, breaking it just wasn’t an option.

~~

On the remains of Sachihata is new ample land, new data, to the abandoned section of Zone 1. Maybe he could build an amusement park there. Someone with a sturdy soul would need to be stationed there so it doesn’t vanish overnight. Or he could wait for such a soul to arrive. Huaso’s head continues to juggle ideas as he drafts plans at his work desk, in his newly constructed home, listening to Pure taking a shower.

They really have come a long way. Up until now, the harbringer has to admit that after spending almost a year with Pure, and after all the given leeway, showing that he’s more than receptive to any moves the other wishes to make, Huaso is feeling a little touch starved. Hugs, kisses, and the soft murmurs of affection can only do so much.

Eddie truly is a bad influence; Even after being on the stage of acceptance for almost a year, there are some yearnings that must really rear its ugly head.

A familiar soft hand rests on his shoulder.

“Huaso, I want to try something…” Pure’s tone sounds diffident.

“What is it?” Huaso asks, resting his hand over the other’s own. He waits as the knight takes a moment to find his misplaced confidence.

“I really thought long and hard during that shower. Actually… It’s been on my mind for a while.” Pure says quietly, trying not to let his voice falter, or his tone dive in volume, “You once said that I’ll know when I’m ready. And from what you told me time and again, you’ve been ready for a long while. You’ve been so patient with me; sorry that I’ve kept you waiting so fuckin’ long.”

“Pure, what are ya sayin-?”

“I want you.”

At this blunt confession, Huaso drops the pencil. He stands from his seat, turns around, and looks at his friend in the eye.

“C-Come again?”

“I want you.” Pure repeats. His blush present as he fights the urge to look away. It feels like a shameful confession.

“Pure, take a knee.”

No ‘please’? Has it been a bad time to demand such a thing from Huaso?

Pure does so, feeling his pulse quicken. It takes him by surprise when Huaso wraps his arms around his frame, rather than his neck, and feels the other’s lips against his own in a kiss.

The engineer purrs once he breaks the kiss, letting his claws rub at the purifier’s back. “I’ve been waitin’ for ya ta ask, I wanted it to happen on yer terms. Yes, you may have me.”

With relief washing over him, Pure hugs back, a hand snaking down to steal a quick grope.

“Now, now, settle down, you.” the engineer chuckles, in spite of his squeak, “I’ll let ya do what ya want, but… how ‘bout we mark this milestone by breakin’ the sugar off my arms an’ hands?”

~~

Living in the unloading file isn’t ideal, especially when one cannot really depart from it, but when the land is lucid there is always a spot of new adventure everyday. The reality lived in is a lie, the roots to the tree of life runs on death and rebirth. Trapped in god’s basement. And the sadistic God refuses to move on. But maybe a happy future can still come out of this after all.

Huaso still thinks back to the occasional bargaining stage of grief; maybe there was something more he could have done to help Eddie and his brothers. Deep down, a small part of him will always be waiting for Eddie to come home. A small part of him will long for the days of nostalgia; of soft cuddly arms, a warm body coiled around him, and a wide, endearing smile on a pale complexion.

But the ache is numb. Because Huaso still has someone to look after, and that someone will look after him in turn. And arguably? Pure is just as soft and warm to embrace.

Speaking of Life… when was the last time anyone saw Lepi? That might be the new objective on their next adventure, when they catch a break to start exploring again.

Huaso removes his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead. He is due for a shower, or someone here will likely get sick. He doesn’t even grunt in surprise when he is picked up and cuddled by his larger friend. Or is it his new lover? Maybe a close friend with benefits. Either way, he eagerly cuddles back.

“You fuckin’ smell. Go shower, stinky.”

Ah yes, even Pure has gotten a little blunt with his honesty, and the curses continue to creep back in his vocabulary on the occasion.

Huaso only nuzzles back.

“Ya don’ put me down this instant, you can come an’ join me.” he mocks an order to the other. This only gets him a slight squeeze in the cuddle.

“You know what? I think I fuckin’ will.” Pure purrs, carrying his friend inside with a grin on his face. He snickers as his chest is poked at by a sugar claw that is still in the progress of regrowing.

“”An’ stop that. Cursin’ ain’t nice.” Huaso reprimands with a snicker of his own while he is carried inside. Sharing the shower it is, then!

Finding his panacea isn’t on Huaso’s list of things to do in the early years of this lifetime. Not when there’s a shoulder of a giant to sit on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it for From the Ruins everyone, but it won't be their last adventure! (It is, in terms of chapter content, so expect more one shots.)
> 
> I'm currently suffering from writer's block, and several changes taking place in my life. Including becoming a fan of Newgrounds things (especially Piconjo) once again, and starting a new job with a voluntary (unpaid) trial. But I also have written content in the works.
> 
> Which I will get to once the writer's block eases off. And the days are cool. And I'm not suffering from a headache. Thanks for sticking around until the end.


End file.
